The Melody in You
by naebaloog
Summary: After going from foster care to foster care, a very broken mute Blaine finds himself in the home of Burt Hummel and his son Kurt.
1. Prologue

When Blaine was nine years old he woke up in a hospital covered in bruises, multiple broken bones, and a breathing tube down his throat. A heart monitor beeped steadily next to him. Slowly he opened his eyes, but the world spun in a blurry mess. He closed them again as the light made the pounding in his head worse. Someone was trying to talk to him but their words were jumbled together. Soon he stopped trying to stay awake, and instead welcomed the quiet blackness. Much later he woke up to learn he wasn't going home to his abusive parents. They told him he was going to live with a foster family until more permanent arrangements were to be made.

Blaine didn't quite know what to make of this unfamilar place he was suddenly forced into. He resented being thrust into a new situation that was entirely different from what he had known before. A new school, a new family with a new set of rules, and a new life. To make it worse, his new 'family' expected to be called mom and dad. Even though they weren't his parents and did not consider them as such, he did as they asked because if he did not, he was hit. Hard. You might think foster families took good care of their foster children; this was hardly the case, especially for Blaine. He was expected to cook and clean. He was their own personal maid that they did not have to pay; instead the government paid them. They threw insults at him, told him he was worthless, stupid and lazy. He started to believe their words and Blaine slowly grew silent.

A new foster family and a new set of rules. This family was completely different. While Blaine refused to speak and remained silent throughout his stay there, they readily taught him sign language. For the first time in a long time Blaine smiled. One day, Blaine looked at the piano sitting in their living room in interest and his foster parents began teaching him how to play piano. He fell in love with it and practiced every day for hours on end. After he learned how to play beyond their level they hired him a teacher. Through music he was able to express all the emotions he didn't know how to outwardly show. Most of his pieces were melancholy, rarely were they happy, but all were beautiful. Music was his to mold and he immersed himself completely in it. When his foster dad was diagnosed with cancer and the state learned it was terminal they sent him to another foster family. By this time he was eleven.

The family he lived with after was far worse than the first. The first home only tore him down emotionally. These people beat him and reminded him of the ruthless facts daily; the only reason why they took him in was for the money the state provided monthly. They only spent enough of that money to keep him alive. He was fed meagerly and Blaine grew very thin. Again he was told he was worthless every day without fail. They tried to force him to speak, and beat him when he didn't. If he attempted to communicate using his hands he was beat even harder, the lashing from the whip sometimes taking days to heal. But his voice was gone, words wouldn't form, the will to talk taken away from him so Blaine took the beatings. While this family didn't have a piano he would create music in his head and thus he found his escape. He practiced every day with a pretend piano moving his hands to the invisible keys in time to the music he had created. When his foster parents caught him doing this they hit him with a wooden paddle. So Blaine began practicing only when no one was around. But his music always stayed with him. Eventually they gave up on Blaine telling the social worker he was a useless case and didn't want him anymore. A conversation he overheard taking place on the phone while hiding behind the staircase. He stayed with this family for only five months.

It got worse and worse for Blaine after that. He never seemed to stay in a home for very long before being whisked away to another home. Always being told that he was too difficult to handle, they didn't want him, he was hopeless. One time he was placed with a family who were very homophobic. When they saw that he showed 'homosexual tendencies' they punished him for it. They put him in a box which was only big enough for Blaine to sit in. Passing the time in there, he played his imaginary music sometimes for hours. He was told he was disgusting and going to hell. Blaine tried to change who he was, he really did, but he couldn't. Blaine was once again sent to another family.

By this point he no longer talked with his hands, he had given up. No one tried to understand him so why even attempt it. He kept to himself reciting music in his head. He failed school as he was constantly going to a new one. He hadn't made a friend since he was eleven. He came to the conclusion that he couldn't be loved; he wasn't enough and never would be. He simply went through the motions of living, he never smiled, he never got angry, he never felt any emotion. He was detached to anything and everything around him. Music was his savior and no one could take away the songs he created.

A very broken fourteen year old Blaine was sent to live with a father named Burt Hummel and a son named Kurt Hummel. That's where we find him now, and where our story begins.


	2. Moonlight Sonata

**A/N: Each chapter will have a piano music as Blaine's theme song. I encourage you to listen while you read**

**www. youtube. com/watch?v=nT7_IZPHHb0 Take out the spaces**

A very thin Blaine was sitting at the dinner table with Mr. Hummel and Kurt for the first time. Blaine hated the first week because he didn't know what to expect. The families rarely communicated what exactly they wanted from Blaine; they just seemed to think that he could read their minds. It always made everything so much harder on him. Blaine silently (he did everything silently) picked at his food but very few bits actually reached his mouth. He found it hard to eat when he was first placed into a new home. He knew he should be hungry, but because of all the change he just wasn't.

Attempting to make himself as insignificant and distant as possible, he shrunk down with his shoulder hunched and body, as close to a ball as he could. Lucky for him, the two were chatting idly to one another and didn't seem to be addressing Blaine at all. For now, he retreated into his own head, unable to process the new situation further.

Kurt and his father were talking about the football game Kurt had coming up. He was kicker, and surprisingly he was really good at it. Not that Kurt actually cared too much for the sport, but his dad was into it and they had gotten closer because of his decision to join. Also, playing the brutal American past time was just another way for Kurt to break those stereotypes placed upon him for being gay. Of course, he had to give up his fashion, and wearing those overalls which were much too big for his figure almost gave him a heart attack. But it was a price he had to pay to not get bullied, to earn his dad's attention, and to break those stupid stereotypes. Oh, don't get Kurt wrong, he was out and definitely proud of it. Everyone at school knew. But…

He looked over at Blaine and wondered what his story was as his dad was forbidden to give him too many details. However, his dad did inform him that Blaine was a mute and they should not to expect him to talk, so Kurt refrained from asking him questions. For the most part the children they took care of were much younger; Blaine was the first teenager that they ever had. It was a joint decision for his dad and him to start foster caring after his mother died. Kurt's mom was so very kind. Together as a family they used to go to hospitals and entertain sick kids. She created crafts with them, hugged them, sang to them. After she passed away, Kurt and his dad could no longer visit the hospitals. It brought on too much pain. Thinking of other ways to give back and help children, they concluded that foster care was a good option.

Blaine was their fifth foster child. The four previous children all were able to go back to live with relatives. It brought Kurt such joy when they reunited with their biological family. The smiles on their faces. Most of the time when the children first arrived they threw tantrums, yelled at Kurt and his father, threw things, and were generally unruly. Kurt sympathized; if he was taken away from his dad he would probably do the same thing. Only one was shy, but he did speak every once in a while. Nothing like how Blaine was acting. Kurt wondered exactly how much torture Blaine had gone through before coming here.

Watching him, he looked like a frightened animal. Kurt suspected that he could be very handsome if Kurt actually saw his eyes every once in a while and if he wasn't so ungodly skinny. Maybe some different clothes would look better on him too, as his had stains in multiple places, the fabric was torn on the sleeves and knees, and the edges were ratty. Possibly skinny jeans with a nice button up red shirt would work well for him. Shaking his head free of fashion, Kurt chided himself and forced his thoughts onto better topics, like his upcoming game. When he was finished with dinner, Kurt was about to take everyone's dishes from the table, as it was his turn to clean up. But when he looked down about to grab his dishes, he saw that Blaine already beat him to it. Confused, Kurt looked to his dad for support.

"Hey, Blaine?" Blaine continued on with the dishes as if he didn't hear anything. Which, Kurt noted, was entirely possible since the boy seemed to be in his own little world the whole night. "Blaine," his dad called again and still no reaction, "it's Kurt's turn to clean up tonight. Yours won't come until the day after tomorrow. Come into the living room. Relax. It's your first night here."

Blaine paused for a moment, winced, and continued scrubbing a little more hurriedly, like he was terrified. Kurt looked to his dad and shrugged. Burt sighed deciding not to push the teen any further and let him continue washing the dishes. "Okay, well, they just need to be rinsed off and put into the dishwasher. Join us in the living room when you're done. Saturday nights are movie nights."

Blaine was confused. Besides the one family that he lived with, all of them made him do chores. Frequently menial labor until he collapsed. He would have even cooked for the Hummels, but after coming downstairs from being in his room after the tour he found that dinner was already made. They probably didn't trust him to cook, as though he was too stupid to do such a thing and going to give them all food poisoning. He always did chores without being instructed to because many times if he waited to be told he'd get beaten for not taking the initiative. Were they trying to trick him into not doing dishes so they could whip him with a belt? Should he stop? Burt seemed to want him to stop, but why? What if it was a trick? His stomach twisted in knots. He did not know what to do.

They couldn't beat him for choosing to do the dishes could they? But he would be disobeying an order and beatings happened when he didn't listen. His heart pounded inside his chest, hands sweating. He was a cornered animal and no matter where he went or what he chose something bad was going to happen. Pausing he thought about what he should do, and after remembering the feel of the whip against his bare back at making the wrong choice Blaine continued to scrub. He hoped against hope that he had made the right decision. But he reminded himself the reality of his situation: no matter what, nothing good was going to come out of it. Out of the corner of his eye he saw them leave the kitchen and Blaine was finally alone with the running water, the dishes, and his songs.

Back in the living room Kurt and his dad were waiting for Blaine to finish, but the clock reached ten minutes past when they left Blaine in the kitchen so Kurt asked, "Should I go get him or…?"

"I think for now, we should let him be, kiddo. He's gone through a lot and by checking on him we may stress him out more. We'll just wait." Burt began flipping through the channels for a show to watch while they waited for Blaine to return. Pausing on Bravo he asked Kurt, "What about Project Runway?"

Kurt glared at his dad. "No, that show is dumb. Put on golf, or Deadliest Catch, or something."

Burt sighed and changed it to the golf channel. "You used to love that stuff."

"Yeah until I realized it was sadder than watching the Colts lose to Raiders."

Forty minutes of golf later, Blaine very quietly walked into the living room and sat on the floor in the corner of the room. Kurt raised an eyebrow at his dad silently asking him if he could tell Blaine that it was okay to sit on the couch with him, but his dad shook his head so Kurt kept his mouth shut.

When he walked into the living room, forgetting why exactly they wanted him in there, Blaine quickly looked around and saw that Kurt was sitting on the only couch and Burt in the chair. Immediately he turned his eyes back to the floor with his head down. He chose to sit on the floor as he was probably going to get kicked off the couch when Kurt had enough of Blaine's rotten presence. He hugged his knees to his chest and waited.

Burt was walking towards Blaine and Blaine tightened his ball as Burt was wearing a belt. A belt that could easily be taken off to hit him right there. It wouldn't matter if it was in front of Kurt; Kurt would probably join in after Burt got tired. He knew he should have stopped doing the dishes, but then what real choice did he have? Either way bad things were going to happen. Bad things always happened to Blaine. He recited his favorite tune, letting himself drift away to a world full of music and closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable. After a few moments he heard the footsteps moving away. Slowly he peeked out from his ball and saw that Burt was looking through the movies.

"What do you two think, Monty Python and the Holy Grail or WALL. E?" Kurt looked to Blaine to see if the teen had any preference, but the boy was once again staring at the ground, seemingly oblivious that he was being asked a question. The first night upon receiving a new foster child, they always put in a funny movie to help them relax. Anything else might bring up bad memories, and that was the last thing they wanted. The children needed to know that their house was a safe haven. Something which Kurt hoped Blaine would learn soon or at least open up a little bit to them. Patience and love- they had everything to offer, if Blaine would let himself have it. But the boy was too terrified.

"I haven't seen Monty Python in forever. Can we watch that?" asked Kurt.

"Sounds good to me. What do you think, Blaine?"

Blaine didn't respond because he knew they would mock him. He wanted to keep from getting insulted for as long as he could. Even if he knew he deserved the insults. Sometimes the words were even comforting, knowing no one expected much out of him and being reminded of the truth. It was one of the few constants in his life. The movie began and Blaine faded in and out, hardly paying attention to what was going on. Mostly he stayed in his safe place. Time passed without him realizing and soon it was time to go to bed. He got up, not quite sure what they wanted from him, stood there in his normal posture with his head facing the ground.

"Goodnight, Blaine. Goodnight, Dad," Kurt said going downstairs to his room.

"Night, kiddo!" Burt said to his retreating son's figure. "Get a good night's sleep tonight, Blaine. Tomorrow we're going shopping to get you some new clothes. You'll look all fancy for school on Monday."

Blaine turned off the lights and got into bed. He couldn't sleep, though. Too many thoughts and fears swirled around in his head. Instead of dealing with it, Blaine, satisfied that he could now play his piano, began moving his hands to the beat. No one could take this away. Finally the melody drifted him to a fitful sleep in the early morning.

He woke up every hour almost exactly on the half hour that night. He knew because he glanced at the clock every single time. At about five he decided that enough was enough and went downstairs to make breakfast for everyone. They may think he would give them food poisoning, but he supposed that it was better to make food that they might not eat than get yelled at for not doing it. So he began to make French toast with eggs on the side.

Kurt heard commotion in the kitchen and went to investigate what all the clattering was about. His dad usually wasn't up this early. He was very much startled to see Blaine moving about, the smell of food wafting through the room. "Blaine. You don't have to do that. Dad makes breakfast on Sundays, we'll trade on Saturdays or we can do it together, and the rest of the week it's a grab bag. I make protein shakes so I can pull an Arnold in the gym. That's what Coach wants." Kurt contemplated Blaine, who seemed to be ignoring him. Didn't they show him the schedule during the tour? Maybe he was lied to about schedules, or maybe everything was too new and thrusting more information at him made him go into information overload and therefore he wasn't processing when they showed him the schedule. Whatever the reason was, Blaine obviously was not going to follow it. Not knowing what to do, Kurt waited for his breakfast to be made and his dad to come downstairs.

A plate was prepared and Blaine handed it to Kurt, hands outstretched eyes averted. Kurt took it, telling Blaine 'Thank you,' and dug in. "Eating this just like running a Hail Mary with five seconds left in the game. You are an excellent cook." He watched the boy to see if the compliment sunk it. No, there was no response. His words bounced off of him like a rubber ball hitting cement. Well, the food was really good…he wasn't lying.

After eating, Kurt went into the living room to watch some football and expected Blaine to join him. Except ten minutes later Blaine was still in the kitchen. Wondering what he could be up to now, Kurt quietly snuck back into the kitchen and saw Blaine mopping the floor. Moments later his dad came downstairs to see the same scene. His dad eyed the plate of food sitting alone on the counter, took it for himself, and started eating in the living room. Curious as to what his dad had to say about Blaine, Kurt followed.

"Dad, how much has Blaine gone through?" asked Kurt.

"As much as I wish I could tell you, kiddo, you know I can't. He has been through a heck of a lot and we are going to have a change in plans. I think it will be best if this month we leave him alone to do what he feels he needs to in order to be comfortable here. We won't interrupt him. I think he just needs time on his own. We'll respect his space. After the month we'll reintroduce the schedule posted in the hallway." His dad glanced to the kitchen. "I don't even think going shopping with him to get those new clothes today is a good idea."

"What about school tomorrow?" asked Kurt.

"I don't know, son. He needs to go to school. He needs to have some sort of set routine to get started with. School is something that is familiar to him, but I just don't know how much good school will do him in the state he is in. I guess we could try it." His dad sighed heavily. The stress of a new child in their care always took its toll the first couple of days. But Kurt preferred the screaming kids to this. At least Kurt knew they felt something. That they weren't dead to the world. Blaine was so bottled up inside himself that Kurt wondered if they would ever be let in. "Watch out for him tomorrow."

"Always," said Kurt, hugging his dad. He always looked after his foster family, and he would always be there for Blaine as well.


	3. Gnossienne No1

**A/N: http:/www. youtube. com/watch?v=PLFVGwGQcB0**

On Sunday night, Kurt and his father decided that Blaine would go to football practice, which took place early in the morning. The decision was made so Blaine wouldn't have to go onto the bus alone, as Kurt's dad had to fix a leaky car emergency early that morning and therefore couldn't drive him. Based off of how Blaine had been acting, the teen would be perfectly fine watching practice, existing in his own fantasy.

After getting dressed for practice, Kurt packed a pair of overalls in his bag to change into. He went downstairs to make his protein shake, but found that once again breakfast was already prepared by Blaine. Not wanting to be rude or seem offensive, Kurt ate the waffles in silence, wishing Blaine would just understand that he didn't need to do this for them. At the edge of the table he saw a brown paper bag labeled 'Kurt'. Curious, Kurt peaked inside only to discover it contained a ham and cheese sandwich with lettuce, an apple, and a bag of Doritos. Kurt looked at Blaine with sorrow. He briefly wondered how early he had gotten up to prepare everything; he was still in his pajamas, which were a very large grey stained shirt and sweat pants that were too small.

"Thank you, Blaine," he said. His words washed right over him, without any sign of acknowledgment.

Kurt's dad soon came into the kitchen, ate Blaine's food, and took to making Kurt and Blaine's lunch. He rummaged around in the fridge stopping when Kurt addressed him. "Uhm, Dad?"

"Yes, son?"

Kurt looked over to the paper bag with his name clearly labeled on it, and he nodded in understanding. Kurt sent a sad smile to his dad.

"Blaine, I'm going to put some of my old clothes on your bed," Kurt said. "I think you'll look good in them. I just hope they fit okay. This way you don't have to wear those worn down clothes to school if you don't want to." He wasn't sure if Blaine heard him but he went to Blaine's room anyway. He placed his old blue Marc Jacobs jacket on Blaine's bed along with a black turtleneck and a pair of black pants. What used to be a favorite outfit of his. Memories of getting tossed into the dumpster and slushie facials flooded him. Shaking his head in shame at his past, he looked around at the stark and unwelcoming white walls. Usually, on the second day, the new foster child decorated their room how they wanted it. One child even chose to splash random colors all around the room; that had been a lot of fun. But Blaine was barely able to function, let alone express himself. It looked so cold and hostile in here. Kurt thought it looked like a hospital room. After one last look, Kurt left to finish getting ready.

Blaine walked into the room and saw some clothes placed neatly on his bed. They were very nice clothes and Blaine couldn't comprehend why they were there. They didn't belong to him; nothing that nice had ever belonged to him. They must have gotten mixed up in the laundry or something, and mistakenly given them to Blaine when they obviously belonged to Kurt. Afraid to get yelled at and or punished for having such nice clothes on his bed, he cautiously put them on hangers, careful to keep them as wrinkle-free as he could. He walked down the hall and he put them on Burt's door knob.

Kurt was putting the last bit of gear into the car as his dad and Blaine entered the garage. Blaine was wearing the same clothes he had the first time he arrived there. Why didn't he just wear the clothes Kurt set out for him? Did they not fit? Did Blaine not like them? Whatever the reason, Blaine climbed into the very back seat of the van. Kurt sat in the passenger seat, and turned the station to rap. So The overuse of 'fuck' and descriptions of different sexual position annoyed Kurt, but rap had a certain artistic… His dad changed the station to the oldies. They arrived at the football field; Kurt told Blaine where he could watch.

With Blaine safely on the edge of the stadium stands, Kurt began warm-ups. He found the exercises menial and mind-numbing. His hair was sticking to his head, and he was sure he smelled. Sighing, he wondered why he was insulting football so much. He needed to try harder to like it, focus on the positives. The burn in his muscles was slightly satisfying as he learned how to push his limits.

When they split up into teams, Coach Bieste made him rehearse kicking, which seemed rather pointless to him because he had the technique down. Kurt berated himself; she made him practice to make sure his technique stayed solid. He was good at it and enjoyed it. After, she made them split off into pairs. Finn practiced Kurt's receiving ability, as he was recruited as back up. Mostly the two focused on his catching as he wasn't great at it, but at the very least his footwork ability made up for the lack. He took pleasure in the intricate footwork, especially when he had someone trying to take him down. It was like…no it wasn't anything like memorizing a routine.

"Okay, Kurt, let's try this again," said Finn.

With a smile that didn't reach his eyes, Kurt ran again. With only minor fumbling, this time he caught the ball successfully. Coach called an end to practice. The guys patted him on the back for a good practice run. He rushed to the locker rooms to clean up as quickly as he could. Football practice always made him feel so gross afterwards. His shirt sticking to his skin because of his own sweat must have been the most disgusting feeling ever. At first the guys were a little uncomfortable with Kurt in the locker rooms, as they knew he was gay. But after his continued stubborn presence for them to grow up and get over it, eventually they did. They had no choice, and besides they were more at ease with it now that Kurt wasn't flaming.

They had a little time before school began so Kurt showed Blaine around. Blaine was a freshman and Kurt was a sophomore, so he didn't have any classes with Kurt. Which Kurt thought was highly unfortunate because he really wanted to keep an eye on Blaine during classes. Make sure no one poked fun of him, teased him, or called him names. Watch how he was doing, look for signs of stress. His dad made the teachers promise to leave Blaine alone. Not ask him questions and most importantly to not introduce him to the class. He would be all right, Kurt reminded himself the first time he walked away from dropping him off at his first class. Kurt waited for his foster brother after every class in order to walk him to his next one. If nothing else, Kurt could protect Blaine in the hallways. After picking him up from math, he walked with him to Kurt's locker.

Blaine lagged behind Kurt. "Hey, where did you get those clothes from, loser!" someone called out to Blaine when he walked past him. He was used to these kinds of comments. They were true. Blaine was a loser. Time and time again that had proven true. A simple fact, nothing more. It was a nice reminder. Blaine didn't think anything more of it as he continued walking picking up where he left off on his latest piano beat. That note should be louder and wait an eighth note longer, yes that sounded better.

Kurt, however, wasn't going to let anything slide. "What is your problem? Leave him alone!" Kurt yelled, drawing attention to them in the hallway. "He's been through more than you ever will."

"Woah. Okay, sorry Kurt. I didn't realize you two were friends," the jock, said holding his hands in the air in defeat.

"Doesn't matter. You shouldn't be picking on anyone, let alone someone new. Come on, Blaine." Okay, so he may have overreacted, but Kurt was going to make damn sure no one said a single bad word to his foster brother. He dropped him off at his English class and told him to meet him at lunch. That was the only time Kurt couldn't walk Blaine somewhere afterwards, as Kurt had an errand to do for Coach.

Blaine walked into the class and sat in the back corner, relieved to be back in school. Even if he did join in the middle of October. It wasn't as though he loved learning; in fact he had no idea what was going on in any of his classes. It wasn't as though he enjoyed being around people either. But there were so many people around that Blaine was able to shrink into the background, go unnoticed, and be ignored. None of his teachers introduced Blaine to the class. None of them asked him any questions either, as though he was too stupid to answer them. Blaine knew they were right, but he wanted to be left alone so the arrangement worked for him. He could sit in the back of the classroom and let the teacher's monotonous voice drift him off to his music. For an hour at a time, he escaped to work on conceiving new composition pieces. How a note would sound in this place…or, no, it should be a little higher and slower. He imagined practicing complicated pieces he learned from his teacher long ago, pretending to fumble at more difficult passages and working them over again until they were smooth. The hour passed on, and Blaine immersed himself in his musings. Clattering of chairs and desks snapped Blaine out of his reverie; he hadn't even heard the bell ring. Slowly, he got up and moved out of the classroom, only barely aware that it was lunch time.

"Hey, white boy." Kurt was greeted by Mercedes at his locker while he retrieved the letter Sue wanted him to give to Coach. Probably containing insults as the football team was making more money than the Cheerios. All thanks to Kurt, actually. The best kicker that the football team had seen in years. He hadn't missed a goal yet.

"Hi, Mercedes," Kurt said in his most irritated voice. 'White boy' used to be a term of endearment for him. Now it only meant one thing: she was going to try and have another heart to heart with him.

"What do you want?" he asked as he closed his locker briskly. They both knew this game. They both knew the other was aware of the game. However, that didn't keep Kurt form playing dumb.

"Come back to Glee."

"Why? I hate Glee Club." He wanted her to drop the subject already. He wasn't coming back, and she couldn't make him. She was the last of the Glee members attempting to convince him to return after he quit last year. For a while, he wondered who would be the last to give up, Mercedes or Rachel. Rachel's rants of, 'While I'm the star, your voice really compliments mine… blah blah blah,' even though they were somewhat flattering, also got increasingly annoying. At least Mercedes meant well.

"No you don't. You love singing. Look, Kurt, you're lost. "

"I'm perfectly fine where I am, Mercedes. Expressing yourself through song is so… for lack of a better word, gay. I'd much rather tackle someone when I get angry than sing about it."

"You are gay."

Kurt rolled his eyes, wanting to get the conversation over with as soon as he could. "So? Doesn't mean I have to enjoy singing."

"No, it doesn't. But it still doesn't change the fact that you do."

Mercedes gave him a pointed look and hurried off. The discussion was dead. The conversation occurred so many times, he knew the dance by heart. He could almost mouth the words she was going to say next. What did she know about him anyway? Hurrying, he headed off to the locker room, hoping Blaine would be okay on his own for a brief moment.

On his way to the cafeteria, Blaine began meandering. He was pretty sure he was lost, but he was also pretty sure that he didn't care. He paused by a room with an open door and instantly froze. Desperately hoping it wasn't an illusion, Blaine must have stood there for five minutes, willing himself to turn and look past the edges of the door and into the room. Finally, he did. A grand piano was sitting in the middle of the room, as though it were the most important thing in there. It was. His breathing turned shallow, as if breathing too much would make the piano disappear. The wood gleamed and the keys invited him to play, whispering his name. Blaine was immobilzed. He flexed his fingers, almost daring them to try out the instrument. Time passed by and Blaine kept his unwavering stare fixed upon it. Yearning to just touch it, Blaine took a slow hesitant step towards it, still not quite believing his eyes.

"Oh, hey, I didn't see you there! Are you a new student? Are you interested in Glee?"

Shocked out of his trance, panic overtook his senses, and he ran away.

Kurt searched for Blaine in the lunch room but couldn't find him anywhere. Why didn't he wait for him at the spot Kurt told him to? Where was he? Kurt sat down at his usual place with the cheerleaders and jocks, automatically tuning out their mindless chatter about parties and video games. Rarely did he actually have anything to say to the group. Today, he continuously scanned the crowded cafeteria for that distinctive curly hair. He didn't see him. He quickly ate the rest of his lunch and went to find Blaine.

Blaine curled up under the stairs on the concrete. Seeing a piano again jarred him. He wasn't sure where he was or what he was supposed to be doing. The hunger pains in his stomach were overpowered by the feeling of awe. All he knew, all he thought, all that existed was the piano in the room.

Kurt skipped his next class to look for Blaine, as well as the class after that. He must have circled the school three times already trying to find him. There was only one more period left and Kurt didn't know what to do. Horrible visions of Blaine being stuffed into a locker or thrown into a dumpster pounded his thoughts nonstop. They swirled around, each new thought becoming more and more horrible than the next. Kurt felt awful. He was supposed to be looking out for Blaine; he made a promise to himself, to his dad. To his mom. It was his job to take care of Blaine, and he failed. Nothing bad was supposed to happen- not today not ever, but now he lost Blaine.

Sending a silent apology to his mom, he began an even more frantic search for his foster brother, looking in the most absurd of places – on window sills, in closets, every nook and crevasse a person could possibly fit into. And some places where a normal people couldn't, because Blaine was smaller than most. Finally, with an audible cry of relief and a flood of released tension, Kurt found Blaine curled up underneath a set of stairs. "Blaine, what are you doing here? Come on."

But Blaine didn't move. Blaine didn't hear Kurt. Blaine didn't see Kurt. Usually if someone gave him a direct order he responded, even if only mechanically. Right now, there was nothing. No twitch of a muscle, no movement of the head. Blaine and Kurt were in two completely different worlds. Did someone do something to him to cause this? Did someone insult him to the point that Blaine was more vacant then usual? Kurt hated himself for leaving him alone. If only he asked someone else to give that note to Coach. At least Blaine was safe and seemed physically unharmed: no blood or signs of bruises. Kurt couldn't see any at least. For now, Kurt sat opposite of Blaine. Neglecting his last class, he waited for any sign that Blaine was snapping out whatever caused his stupor.

"Hey, dad…yeah, I don't know what happened to Blaine. He's was just sitting under some stairs. Can you come pick us up?"

"Yeah? Okay, see you in a few.

"Love you too, bye."

"Blaine?" his dad asked when he arrived. "Let's get you home, buddy." Blaine responded by getting up, like nothing out of the ordinary happened, and following him to the car.

All three of them drove home in silence. Not knowing what happened to Blaine, Burt gave him the choice of going to school or attending next year. Of course he did not get a response, so they waited to see what would happen in the morning. Later that night, as he was going to bed, Burt found the clothes hanging on his door. He handed them back to Kurt. Kurt shook his head and placed them into the box he got them from. Where all his old clothes hid. The next morning Blaine seemed to be in a rush to get out the door and to school. The decision was made that whatever had happened, it wasn't something bad.


	4. Ballade No1 Op23

**A/N: http:/www. youtube. com/watch?v=eG1Olvh7vCU**

**Make sure to take out the spaces.**

The only reason Blaine continued going to classes was because Kurt walked him to every single one. If it wasn't for that, Blaine would have spent his whole entire time in the room with the piano. Desperate as a goldfish without water, Blaine needed to get rid of Kurt's presence so he could at least see it again. How was a mystery to him. Finally a chance came, Kurt was unusually late to pick him up, and Blaine took siege of it. He almost ran out of class, a tree to the sunlight, to find the room. It was, thankfully, empty besides the chairs decorating the room and the wonderful instrument. Staring at it, he slowly walk towards it, afraid it might disappear, run off, or prove to be a teasing illusion of his own mind. The glorious instrument now stood before him. Reducing Blaine to an insignificant spec of dust in its presence. Was it real? He took a deep shaky breath in, quivering from the anxiety that was swimming in every nerve fiber. As if possessed by a spell the piano created, Blaine lifted a finger, and slowly brought it down onto a key.

He jumped. The sweet ring of the piano filled the room and slowly faded away. Blaine sat down next to the instrument, conflicted. He wanted to play it. He wanted to be lost in his music, feel the rhythms, cadences, and the melody. To fill this colorless room with the sound of music he created. Listen as the high notes danced above him and the low notes swept past and encircled him.

The haunting truth hit him with painful sudden jab. He wasn't worthy. If he played the piano, it would turn to filth. He'd tarnish it. He could never do this magnificent instrument justice. Without being able to control himself, Blaine stood up. Hands hovering inches above the piano, he played a memorized piece without ever touching a key. This, this was enough.

Kurt began walking to Blaine's class, when Mercedes snuck up behind him.

"I saw you at football practice today."

"You sound like Rachel, you realize that right?" Kurt asked with a raised eyebrow wishing her away. They used to be best friends, now she just nagged him. An annoying fly he couldn't get rid of. Buzzing around his head reminding him of what he used to be. If she would only just stop.

"You didn't look very happy."

"I was tired Mercedes, practice takes a lot out of you." Which was true, he wasn't lying. Often his muscles screamed in protest and agony by the end. His body was still getting used to exercising muscles he had never used before.

"We have sectionals on Sunday. You should come."

"Why, so I can watch you lose?" He immediately regretted the statement as soon as it came out. Mercedes was provoking his anger. Although who exactly he was angry at, Kurt couldn't tell.

"No. To support your friends."

Kurt scoffed, "No one ever talks to me anymore, besides you."

"Whose fault is that? You're the one who kept pushing everyone away," she said glaring at him. "We all miss you." She touched his shoulder, a sign of affection. Kurt shrugged it off, he didn't want it.

"And now Finn! Have you been hanging out with them so much that you started channeling each of them?"

"I'll talk to you later. Sectionals is at Madeira High School. Come."

"Later, Mercedes." He wasn't going to go. They didn't want him there; they hated him. Besides, he didn't want to be there. Rachel was sure to sing lead, blow everyone out of the water. Brittany and Mike would be dancing away awing the crowd with their ridiculous moves. The Glee Club would end with a number together. They would be smiling enjoying themselves. Kurt was happy for them, but he didn't want to be a part of it. He didn't was to see it. Football, weight lifting, and his family were his life now. Not that silly Glee Club.

He was just about to reach Blaine's class when he saw curly black hair rush out of the room. Mercedes just had to slow him down, and now Blaine was taking off again. Exasperated and curious as to where he was headed, Kurt followed. Blaine stalked to the piano in the choir room, eyes held in wonderment. A note was played. Was this where Blaine headed off to weeks before stumbling upon this room after wandering around school and getting lost? Was this why he found Blaine curled under some stairs? A piano? Kurt left when Blaine sat on the ground, not wanting to be late for his next class.

Later that night Kurt told his father the story. His dad agreed to buy him a keyboard to see if a piano could help him progress. There were no reports about a piano in Blaine's paperwork, but Burt was willing to give it a try. They just wanted to see Blaine happy. He and Kurt then discussed their plans for tomorrow. "As you know, kid, tomorrow will officially mark the first month that Blaine has been here. Meaning, the schedule will be followed."

Kurt was excited to actually help out around the house again. It was weird and very unsettling to watch someone else do all your chores for you. Especially when that person was only doing them out of fear of punishment. He missed helping out. Blaine was doing everything. It didn't feel right. It was wrong and Kurt's heart wrenched every time he saw Blaine do a chore tense and afraid. It wasn't fair what other people did to him. How he was treated in the past like a slave, less than human, a tool to manipulate and destroy. Degrading him until he was only a ghost.

"We need to be on the ball with everything we do. We can't let him have a chance to do a chore that isn't his to do. Although, if he gets to us before we do, we have to let it go. Do you understand?"

Kurt nodded wondering how Blaine was going to react to the sudden change.

After everyone was up and ate breakfast courtesy to Blaine, Kurt's dad once again told the schedule to his foster brother. This time, Blaine seemed to be aware of what was being asked, his eyes less glazed, more focused. "If you ever forget what day you need to do something, look at the schedule," his dad said gesturing to the chart in the middle of the hallway. "I expect this to be followed. We work as a team here. We help each other out. Everyone does a fair share of the work. Since you cooked breakfast today, Kurt will do it next week."

Blaine wondered if this was a test. What if they wanted him to do chores and made up this schedule only to ultimately beat him for not doing work? What if they wanted him to fail so they could finally enjoy torturing him? This was a test set up to ensure his failure. They intended to mislead him. Tricking him to hurt him. He wasn't going to let that happen. He would avoid punishment at all costs. Blaine was going to do what they really wanted him to do. Be a servant. He understood how this foster care system operated.

Dinner was an interesting affair. Kurt kept an eagle eye watch to see when his dad and Blaine were done eating. He noticed as the month progressed, Blaine was eating more and more of his meals. Already half of his plate was gone. His figure looked a little fuller, not so scraggly. Bones not so prominent. However, his eyes still spoke the depths of his past.

Kurt's dad was finished with his plate. Blaine's hand reached out to take it, but Kurt quickly snatched it away before Blaine could even lay a figure on it. Blaine was filled with anxiety, heart fluttering wildly; a bird suddenly trapped in a small room. Chest constricted, the walls closed in. Ensnared in their ambush, his breathing became strained. He could already feel the whip sinking into his skin causing welts as he tried not to flinch. When you flinch, they beat you harder. He hurried to the sink, hoping for a salvation to end this torture.

The telephone rang, and Kurt, nearest to the phone answered it. The tension in Blaine released, started washing the plate.

Defeated and angry at the phone, Kurt answered, "Hello?"

"Is Mr. Hummel available?"

"What do you want, Finn?"

"Oh, uhm. Hi, Kurt. My truck kinda just broke down and your dad is supposed to be like the best mechanic in town, right? I don't know what to do and uhm I thought maybe your dad could… help me? Can I talk to him?"

There were far too many uhms for Finn to be telling the truth. With suspicion he gave his dad the phone, "It's Finn. Says his car broke down."

"Hello, Finn."

With that Kurt's dad left the kitchen and went to the back yard.

The next day, Burt got up extra early to make breakfast for everyone. Blaine walked downstairs; saw that food was already made. Like a deer pegged for a meal by a wolf, he bolted to his room closing the door. Life was constant fear of becoming prey to the people the state paid to take care of him. Anxiety made him fumble with the lock. He pressed himself against the back wall shaking. Absolutely terrified. Someone knocked on the door. Blaine pressed himself further into the wall trying against hope to become one with it. To disappear and fade from the world. Closing his eyes, he drifted away from reality to the sound of his music. Any moment they would kick down the door belt in hand. He thought of his music.

Kurt knocked on the door again, no response.

"Blaine! _Blaine_!" he called, "It's okay. Nothing is going to happen to you. Come down and eat breakfast with us." Kurt left after a few minutes of waiting. Now was time for patience.

"Didn't want to come out?" his dad asked.

"No." Blaine had been there for a month. The teen spent the majority of his time locked in his room. The rest of the time he was only with them because he had to be and then he locked himself away. Eyes never meeting theirs. Ears never quite hearing what they had to say.

"All we can do right now is wait. He'll come around eventually."Kurt nodded. "So, I was talking to Finn last night."

"Were you able to help him with his truck?"

"His truck was fine." Of course it was, Finn was a horrible liar. "He told me about Glee's first competition today. I think you should go."

Kurt groaned. Would no one leave him alone? "Why?" Kurt asked spitting the word out with much distaste.

"It'll be good for you."

"I'm not going. I don't want to go. You can't make me go."

"I'm your father. You're going."

"What about Blaine? You can't leave him here alone"

"Blaine and I aren't going. The Glee Club is picking you up."

As if on cue, the door bell rang. Infuriated, Kurt sighed, when his father put his mind to something, no one could persuade him otherwise. All the Glee Club members greeted him with smiles. Kurt stood there, cold and unwavering, glaring at his former friends. He gave a special long glower to Mercedes. For it was her that organized his capture, he was sure of it. He would go, being almost forced into it, but he wasn't going to like it.

Hours later, Blaine slowly peaked outside his door to make sure no one was around. He cautiously made his way downstairs hoping to eat something when he saw Burt on the couch. Instantly he froze. But a grumbling stomach urged him on. Deliberately, he took silent steps to the fridge to open it.

"There is left over casserole on the top shelf if you want some."

Upon reflex, Blaine dropped the container he was holding on the ground. Food and glass splattered everywhere. Blood drained from his face. He ran to his room, a deer, a rabbit, a mouse. Looking for escape. Nowhere was safe. Trapped inside his own horror. Music. The piano.

He went hungry that day, too terrified to face them again. Now, punishment couldn't be avoided. Already he had failed their test by neglecting to cook. Furthermore, he added more misdemeanors to the surely ever-growing list by breaking something that belonged to them. Maybe they liked to pile punishments onto one another to make it last longer, make him break easier. It didn't matter either way how they carried out discipline. He deserved whatever punishment they decided and gladly receive it, too. The punishment would be justified. Punishment was always justified.

Kurt walked in the door, slamming it shut, just getting home from sectionals. He stomped to the kitchen to get something to eat.

"How was sectionals?" his dad called to him as Kurt moodily pushed buttons on the microwave to heat up leftovers.

"Fine," he said shortly, angrily. Fine was an understatement, they killed it tonight. They were wonderful on stage. Their energy filled the audience, captivating them, and the judges as well. Of _course_ they won first place. Why did they have to drag him along? They couldn't just leave him to his football could they? It was true, as much as Kurt tried to deny everything about how he felt. He did miss Glee. The excitement of stepping on stage as you shared your heart with the audience. To let the song take you over completely as everything else ceased to exist. The moment when you sang with everyone else and it didn't matter if you were lead, backup, or swaying in the background. You were a part of it, the group, and the marvel of creating something together. _Belonging_. Yes, Kurt missed it. But he couldn't go back, he had other obligations now. He was a polar opposite person and he liked his place at school, the closeness that he and his dad now had because they shared similar interests, the lack of slushies. _Acceptance_.

Over following week Blaine stayed away from the Hummels as much as possible. But even still, there were moments when both Burt and Kurt had the perfect opportunity to give him his punishment.

But no punishment came. Realization hit him suddenly like unexpectedly falling into icy water, they had never punished him. In his whole month of staying there, they had never laid a hand on him. Why not? He was worthless, he was inconsequential, he was disposable. People used him, for money, for labor, for their sick games. This is what he expected from the world, and it was only a matter of time he was proven right again. Blaine reluctantly and very hesitantly began following the schedule, still anticipating punishments. This was the worst for Blaine as he was always on edge, even more now. Always wondering when they were going to strike against him. Convinced any moment, due to a wrong move, they were going to hurt him. A rock teetering over the edge of a long cliff waiting for the slightest wind to push him over. His muscles constantly tense. The music was always waiting for Blaine, ready to take him away when he needed a place to retreat.

He thought further and another realization; not only hadn't beaten him yet, but they weren't constantly verbally attacking him either. In fact, they complimented him when he cooked, when he cleaned, when he did something _right_. But Blaine never did anything right. Right and Blaine were oil and water; no matter how hard he tried they never mixed. Why were they telling him such lies? Why did they never insult him? Where were his beatings? These were the thoughts twisting around and around. Creating knots, unable to untie them, unable to make sense of the situation. Confused beyond comprehension he played his piano. Something he did understand.

A knock on his door brought him back to reality, and he slowly opened it.

"We have something for you, Blaine," said Burt.

Kurt revealed a key board just outside the door and handed it to Blaine. Blaine stared at it, shocked. He slowly took it. Surprised astonishment, a piano. A piano he could play. They had given him a piano? Why? They must have known he could only create flawed music. A new type of punishment, a new horror. They would mock him when he played. Make a spectacle of it, tease him. They would take away his music. Crumble his only salvation, the only thing that ever made him sane. Now, he understood. He was angry. Angry at Kurt and angry at Burt. Angry at the cruel world who dealt him a rotten hand.

How dare they give this to him. He threw it to the opposite wall where it shattered. Why did they give him a piano? He slammed his fist against the wall. Why did they not use him like everyone else? He purposely hit a lamp sending it tumbling to the ground. Why didn't they beat him like he deserved? He kicked the bed. Why wouldn't they insult Blaine and remind him what a worthless person he was? He tore one of the pictures off the wall. Why! He shook with anger, with confusion, with fear. WHY WHY WHY WHY **WHY**!

Kurt watched smiling as Blaine took the piano from him. His smiled turn to a frown when he saw Blaine's face go from shock, to confusion, and then ultimately to anger. Unexpectedly he threw the piano hard enough to damage it beyond repair. Then went into a fit. He began destroying the room. Kurt and his father safely stood outside the door making sure Blaine didn't seriously injure himself. This was something they were familiar with. They left him to his fit knowing if they tried to interrupt in any way, they would only make it worse as well as endanger themselves.

Once Blaine was done throwing things, he began wildly waving his hands above his head. His fingers were flexing and releasing on either side of him as if he didn't know what to do with his hands anymore. His head shook almost violently from side to side and face contorted in anguish. If Blaine wasn't mute, he would be screaming by now. The exhaustive effort of fighting turned to ultimate confusion, and this was how he expressed it. He was in pain. And now he was showing them his pain. Blaine curled up on the floor next to his bed, rocking back and forth. Thankfully unharmed besides a few minor scratches, they closed the door.

At last, Blaine had showed emotion, besides fear, for the first time. While explosive, perhaps they could move forward. One layer had been pulled away; they were that much closer to healing the damaged boy within.

Hours later, Blaine slowly got up to collect the destroyed keyboard. He plugged it in and tried to play a note. There was no sound. It was as damaged as Blaine.

The days pressed on and no punishment came for Blaine after his fit. He expected something, a punch, isolation, even a harsh word. All they did was clean up his mess, replace the broken things in Blaine's room, and carry on like nothing happened. Like Blaine didn't just throw something against the wall. Like he didn't just ruin the room. Like he wasn't completely horrible. He deserved punishment. He deserved their anger -something, anything! But there was nothing. Who were these people? What did they want from him?

If they wouldn't punish him, he would make them. Blaine stated acting out.

**A/N: I am so blown away by everyone's reviews. Thank you so much. **


	5. Sonata No 7, Op 83 III Precipitato

A/N: **Sorry for the spoiler but… _Trigger warning!_ There is self harming in this chapter. _Please do not read if it will be an issue_. Message me on here or tumblr and I will send you a summary of the chapter. The place is marked by *****

**There are two piano pieces one here ****http:/www. youtube. com/watch?v=5rfle8wSwJM **

**And one at the end of the chapter.**

Blaine started acting out. It began very simply.

"Blaine, it's your turn to clean up after dinner," reminded Burt when Blaine started to leave.

Blaine left the kitchen with shoulders back, head up, and feet strutting boldly out. A mocking show put on which told the Hummels he point blank refused to wash dishes, wipe the down the table, or push in the chairs. Surely neglecting to obey a direct order in such a manner would result in a beating. A beating he deserved. Waiting in his room, Blaine's door was wide open accepting his punishment without barriers, for Burt to march in with a belt and hit him. Waiting for the welts. Waiting for the pain. The abuse to begin. To finally feel relieved and know that he could once again curl up into himself and not deal with the world anymore as his music played.

Nothing.

Kurt watched as Blaine left the kitchen giving his dad a look. They both knew what was coming next. That this was only the beginning on a long and winding road lying ahead of them. Luckily they had been down this road many times; they knew what they were supposed to do. When to turn, when to slow down, and when to go full throttle. But even though they had the experience, this stretch of road always held surprises, especially when you least expected it. Like an unforeseen storm whizzing suddenly across knocking them off path. Worry was passenger to this particular part of the ride. Furthermore, Blaine was a teenager and a teenager could do a lot worse things than a six year old could. But, no matter what happened, or how icy the roads got, or how many storms they encountered on the way, the destination was always worth it.

For they had a rule in the house; to never ever give up on a foster child. It was one of their promises made to Kurt's mother when she passed away. Once a child was here, they were here to stay until they could go back to their family. No matter how rough it got, and no matter what the child did. This was their home. The reason why they only had one foster child at a time. So they could devote all their attention the child deserved and needed.

The next day Burt addressed Blaine. "Oh! You haven't done the laundry yet. It's your turn this week, Blaine," Burt said and Blaine stood there looking defiantly at him willing him to get a wooden spoon for his disobedience.

Nothing.

He stomped up stairs, frustrated, and slammed the door.

While Kurt knew that his behavior was only going to get worse, he was glad that Blaine was finally showing emotion. This was anger. This was therapeutic . Allowing Blaine to search within himself and let himself actually feel and express the pain he had experienced throughout his life. It was a rough process. Although Kurt could only hope that it wouldn't get too bad before it got better. Children tended to destroy the house quite a bit. One even threw a rock at the T.V. But this was always how it started, slight disobedience. And when nothing happened to them, they escalated it.

That night he knocked on Blaine's door, "Blaine, if you hand me your laundry I'll do it for you." Blaine stayed in his room. Kurt left to do the rest of the laundry empty handed.

Blaine didn't eat Thanksgiving dinner with everyone else. He was allowed to eat in his room.

Kurt wondered as Blaine became recluse in his room, if the teen had ever had a proper Thanksgiving Day with anyone. He really wanted Blaine to partake in the joy of making dinner with his family. Ever since his mom died, they had a foster child eat with them. Today the table felt empty without that third person. Every year for Thanksgiving and for Christmas the current foster child would add something to their tradition. Then his father and Kurt kept up whatever the child added year after year, as a memory. One asked to eat pie before dinner, and another wanted macaroni and cheese with the turkey mixed in. Obviously Blaine didn't have a solid tradition. Kurt wished desperately that the teen would join them, to become part of the tradition. To create his own little nitch in their family. But maybe that was part of the problem too, maybe Blaine didn't want to become attached to their family for fear of being sent off to yet another one. The only option at this point was continue to show him no matter what he did or what happened they were going to be there to support him. Weren't going to abandon him like everyone else had.

Blaine came downstairs after hours of being in his room hoping that they were in bed by now, Burt asked him if he was still hungry. What was wrong with them? Why weren't they acting like Blaine expected them to? Like Blaine wanted them too? Like how Blaine was treated for years and years in foster care?

As the Hummels anticipated, his behavior became more extreme. Instead of mere disobedience, Blaine actively ruined the house.

He started getting mad at them. REACT! He wanted to yell. Soon it became not only a way to receive punishment but also as a means to cause them to call the social worker and send him off to a new home. Maybe getting beaten frequently was difficult to handle but at least he knew what was happening. At least he had trained himself how to deal with it and learned to ignore it. This was different. This was confusing. If he was too difficult to handle they would send him away. That's how it happened. He got abused then told he was too difficult. Sent to someone else. The cycle started over. How much could they possibly take before either one of those scenarios took place?

Therefore, he broke things, he threw things, he ruined things.

Kurt didn't know how they weren't going to run into financial problems if Blaine kept this up much longer. His dad wanted to start a savings account for Blaine with the five hundred dollar check they received each month to be put away for college. Regrettably, however, he needed to use his money to replace the things Blaine broke during his tirades. They had no choice. They weren't going to give up on him, but sacrifices might have to be made if Blaine didn't reach his breaking point soon. One could only handle a seemingly endless gale before a accommodations had to be made.

Not only was this financially draining, but emotionally as well. All they wanted to do was help Blaine, but Blaine couldn't understand that, nor would he let them in. It was like trying to control a lightning storm, no matter how hard they struggled to reason with it the lightning struck where it wanted to. They never knew where, when, or what Blaine was going to strike next. All they could do was hold out until the end of the storm, knowing that while the winds may have subsided, there was another storm brewing just under the surface.

Blaine was here to stay. Both him and his dad knew that he was here to stay, no questions asked. A wonderful boy was hiding behind all of the hurt. Glimmers of it shone through on rare occasions like when Kurt saw Blaine touch the piano in awe. Kurt wanted to see more of that boy. If only they could dig through his past and show him they weren't the same people which littered his soul with threats, insults, and broken promises.

All Blaine wanted them to do was be angry at him. But they didn't. How could they just stand there and let him ruin their house? Why were they always calm? How could they not beat him? How could they not get rid of him like everyone else? What else did Blaine have to do to make them understand? That he should be punished. That he should be sent away. That he was broken and unwanted, damaged beyond repair. That no one could love him, and they shouldn't either. So he broke things, he threw things, he ruined things. No matter how bad Blaine got nothing happened to him.

They didn't beat Blaine, and they didn't call the social worker. They replaced things, and put things back, and fixed things.

Sometimes they even joined in.

He took all the rolls of toilet paper in the house, six to be exact, and TPed the front yard. This would get them mad, Blaine was sure of it.

But they didn't.

Kurt and his dad watched, curious, wondering what Blaine was doing as he went outside with arms full of toilet paper. Finally realizing his plan after seeing him embellish the yard with the paper, they grabbed some lined up along the yard and joined in. For the most part, if Kurt and Burt turned something intended to be naughty into something fun, it often threw the child off course. Besides, there was no harm in TPing a yard. The clean up, however, was a pain afterwards.

"Hey, dad! Catch!" said Kurt throwing the roll over a tree branch laughing as his dad fumbled with it. Kurt looked over to Blaine. His mouth was wide open, obviously confused. Kurt gave him a wide grin, catching the roll his dad tossed back to him and threw it to Blaine.

Blaine stopped what he was doing, perplexed. He stepped aside as the toilet paper rolled away from him. What? He watched Kurt shrug and run to retrieve it before going into the street. Burt and Kurt were laughing and enjoying themselves. What was intended to get Burt furious ended in their pleasure. Why wouldn't they get mad? Instead of joining in, which for some reason they seemed to want him to; Blaine left the scene unable to comprehend what was going on and waited in the living room. Waited for his punishment.

Nothing.

Blaine was getting out of the car from being dropped off from school. Right before entering the house, he saw an unused paint container. Allowing Burt and Kurt to go inside before him, he quickly took the paint container, scavenged for a paint brush and went inside. It was black and perfect. He stood in the hallway with the paint and brush in hand. And painted curse words across the wall. Fuck. Cu- He heard rustling behind him. Kurt and Burt were splashing paint on the walls behind him. What were they doing? Blaine stopped mid-word out of utter confusion. He watched from down the hallway as the two of them flicked paint on the walls smiles adoring their faces. The hallway was a canvas quickly turned from anger to joy by Burt and Kurt.

But they didn't do anything to Blaine for his misbehavior and use of curse words.

Nothing.

Sometimes they stood by.

In the kitchen, Blaine opened all the cabinets and started smashing the plates, glass cups, and pans to the ground. A thunderstorm of destruction. The sound was satisfying, an echo to the fury within. The glass breaking and shattering resembled all the times someone had ever hurt Blaine in the past. Drained, there were two cups left abandoned together in the cupboard. The floor below him filled with devastation left behind by lies, pain, and neglect.

The Hummels stood just outside the kitchen from harm's way waiting for the dark cloud to subside. That night they ate out, and the next day Burt replaced all the broken things with new ones.

Nothing.

And sometimes they left room completely.

The living room was neat and tidy because rules said to pick up after yourself. So Blaine messed it up. Burt had even walked in before Blaine was halfway done politely and calmly asking him to stop. No. So, Burt left as Blaine took all the DVDs out of the cabinet and threw them all over the carpet. Ripped out pages and tossed books. Moved the furniture. Emptied the trash can all around the room. He was a tornado. The ferocious winds bottled inside Blaine were let out and he destroyed the room. Confused. Frustrated. Angry. The unyielding torrent continued. Blaine demolished the living room. Burt stood just outside, watching and waiting for the storm to end. One last slam of a book to the ground and all of Blaine's energy was used up. Taking a deep breath, he finally stopped.

Burt asked, "Blaine, can you please help clean all this up? It's going to take a while and Kurt and I would love your help." Refusing, Blaine watched while the two cleaned. Expecting and hoping to get a reaction. Burt and Kurt calmly ordered the room again chatting about Kurt's day at school.

But nothing ever happened to Blaine.

Nothing.

They didn't beat Blaine, and they didn't call the social worker. They replaced things, they put things back, they fixed things.

Eventually, realization dawned on Blaine. After everything he had done to them and their house, they weren't going to do anything to him. He felt horrible. He destroyed their home multiple times, and they didn't do anything to him. They didn't get rid of him, they didn't punish him. He was Blaine, someone that people hurt. He needed to be punished. Anger and frustration boiled. His hands shook almost on their own accord. He wanted them to hit him, get rid of him, yell, SOMETHING!

Well, if they weren't going to do it, he was.

The only thing in his mind was pain and how he needed to feel it, Blaine went into Burt's closet and found a belt. He went to the bathroom so he could watch himself hurt in the mirror. So he could look at his reflection staring back and tell it this is what he deserved. He rose the belt up and brought it back down, applying as much pressure against it as he possibly could. A familiar whistling noise traveled through the air. Finding its mark on Blaine's thigh, a satisfying smack echoed throughout the room as it wacked his skin. The belt dug deep into his leg. It felt good, it felt right. This was how it was supposed to be. He was a terrible person. This was what he deserved. Punishment for not talking. Punishment for never doing anything right. Punishment for all he had done. Punishment for who he was. At each thought of punishment, Blaine hit himself again with the belt. Staring at himself in the mirror, reminding himself why he was doing it.

Several painful scarlet welts now decorated his legs. _Good, that's how it should be _he told himself. The door banged open. Blaine, too blinded by the moment, didn't even notice.

Kurt could hear an odd smacking sound coming from upstairs. Suspecting what was happening but dreading and hoping it wasn't what he thought he quickly yelled to his dad. Together they sprinted upstairs. This was the unexpected disturbance in the road. Something neither of them ever thought they would have to deal with.

Adrenaline fueled, Kurt snatched the belt out of Blaine's hands right before it hit him again. The belt whipped back and the metal part smacked Kurt in the arm causing him to bleed.

The belt was gone, and Blaine could no longer use it as a tool. Instead, he started hitting and scratching himself with his hands frantically as if desperate to feel the pain again. Kurt's dad quickly took Blaine into a binding hug so the adolescent couldn't move his arms restricting him from hurting himself anymore. A technique he was taught a long time ago but only had to use it once before, and never in this kind of situation. Blaine struggled against him, trying to get away. But Kurt's dad held onto him.

Blaine wanted him to let go, wanted them to go away. Fighting to get free, he silently pleaded with Burt to let him do what needed to be done. He tried to kick, he tried to move his arms, twisting and straining against his confinement but Burt wouldn't let go. Finally, worn out and exhausted, Blaine gave in. A tear trickled down his face. Why was he crying? He couldn't show this kind of emotion, it was weakness something that could be taken advantage of. He quickly wiped it away on Burt's sleeve only for the tear to be replaced by others, and more. Blaine could not remember the last time he cried, and now he wept. Rivers of tears flowed down his face the sweet reprieve after a storm. The tears weaving a path for people to be let in.

Burt's almost suffocating embrace became softer. Was this what a hug felt like? Comforting, enveloping, warm. Kurt came over and rubbed his back. Blaine wept. Not understanding why they were still here. Not understanding why they hadn't given up on him yet. Why they were showing such affection to someone like him. Someone who was always carelessly tossed away like unwanted garbage. Why did they care?

"We're here for you, kid," said Burt.

Kurt started rubbing slow circles on his back. The affection emanating from both Kurt and Burt for him was almost too much for Blaine. He retreated into his piano music as he just couldn't comprehend what was going on.

Burt said, "We love you, Blaine. Okay?" At Burt's words he was knocked back to the present and he cried even harder. Why? How? Burt hugged him a little tighter then let go. Putting both hands on Blaine's shoulders he looked him right into his tear filled eyes, "No more hurting yourself anymore, understand? If you feel sad, hurt, or angry you come to one of us. Alright? Do you understand?"

Blaine saw the caring in them, and couldn't comprehend why. After all he had done. Blaine nodded. He cried.

For the first time in a long time, he allowed himself to feel.

. com/watch?v=2UTAmV54OWE

**A/N: MY BLAINERS! *tear***

**And my goodness, your reviews! I'm like… so flabbergasted and flattered and… wow, thank you everyone so much!**


	6. Images inédites

**A/N: I got a new computer and everything is right with the world**

_**A reminder of where we left off**_**: Blaine started acting out as a way to get punished because it was all he had ever known and believed he should. After getting no reaction from the Hummels he decided to take the matters into his own hands. Burt and Kurt found him with a belt, and Blaine ended up crying in Burt arms finally allowing himself to feel. **

**Piano piece: .com/watch?v=yODPeF3ZqN4 **

Blaine woke up the next morning shy and unsure how to proceed. The Hummels opened a doorway into the bright outside world when he was only used to the pitch darkness inside his cage. The light was too bright, the air too warm, he stayed inside. How should he interact with Kurt and Burt now that they saw him break down? A weakness they could pounce upon and use to rip him apart. He made a mistake, he let them in. His external shell had a crack in it. The shell he used to hide in, the shell that kept him safe and sheltered from the cold external world. If more were to show and they took advantage of it, Blaine would be ruined.

A week went by; Blaine tried to close the door and seal the exposed parts in his shell as best he could. But once a door is open it cannot be closed again, and once someone sees through the cracks they cannot unsee them. Instead, he waited in the back corner of his cage, a nervous cornered rabbit, for the worst to happen. Waiting to see when these two people would tear him to shreds. They had the power. As much as Blaine did not want to admit it, they had a piece of him now. Even if it was a just tiny piece, it was more than he had given to anyone in a very long time. If they wanted to inflict damage, they could, and the only thing Blaine would be able to do was sit and watch. So he distanced himself. He didn't want to open up further, in case they were greedy and only desired more of him to warp and twist as so many others had.

But they didn't. Each day after, they smiled at him and greeted him. Treated him like he was worthwhile, not worthless. Hesitantly, Blaine peeked through the cracks and out of the door into the world. A haze was lifted over him. Kurt and Burt weren't the same cold people he had known from his abused past. Hope fluttered inside him. But could he allow the bird to take flight? To soar free? What if the bird, instead of taking wing, fell to the ground? Crashed and burned, withering even more helpless than before. Because he didn't know if he could heal himself again. Sometimes it was safer to be caged. It was too much all at once. Too many people inflicted damage and each unique in their own ways. So much so they left Blaine with no part of him unscathed. The scars running deep. And while the Hummels wiggled in, Blaine was too guarded to allow them access all the way through.

But maybe he could learn to trust. He yearned for it. Yearned for the ray of sunlight to graze his face enveloping him with warmth. Fear held him back. The door was open, but it was up to Blaine to make those steps. Maybe he didn't have to leave the safety of his cage all the way. That morning, Blaine decided to stick a toe outside. To feel the world. It was a scary notion, and Blaine was terrified. Lying stiff in his bed, he argued with himself to get up and go eat. Just swing his leg around the bed. Go on!

When you know you are going to try your hardest to let yourself go just a little, the first step is always the most difficult. Dread pressed all around him, keeping him hostage and frozen in his bed. But, it was just a toe, and Blaine could bring it back in if the world got too overwhelming. Reminding himself of the Hummel's smiles and Burt's hug, the dread became less powerful. The piano played in the background and Blaine was able to sit up.

He walked downstairs for breakfast. "Good morning, Blaine!" Kurt greeted him. Blaine glanced up at him, meeting his eyes for the first time and allowed himself to look into them. They were startling blue, but the warmth and genuine caring behind them struck Blaine even more. What if they really did care about him? Kurt seemed to genuinely want Blaine to be having a good morning. Was that true? Did Kurt care about such a simple thing? But why? There were too many questions and the answers were too painful. Today was about that toe, nothing more and he left the questions unanswered.

Shyly Blaine looked away and back to the task at hand, filling his bowl with… Lucky Charms? He looked on the front of the box. Little brown fish shapes and triangle things clattered against his bowl along with differently colored..? Confused and intrigued, Blaine picked up a rainbow one and ate it carefully. It tasted sugary and melted in his mouth. He ate another one. It was surprisingly very good.

Kurt's dad was sitting down at the table watched Blaine curiously, "First time noticing you've been eating Lucky Charms for two months?" Burt chuckled slightly. "Those are marshmallows you're eating."

Kurt now knew Blaine must have been in a fog this entire time. Not noticing anything as he drifted through life. The iron bars not only keeping out hurt but also joy as well. If there is no joy there is no hurt. If you never know what you are missing, you can never miss anything. How long had Blaine been like that, never really never allowing himself to feel. Because at any moment, without notice, it could be ripped away. It is hard to unlearn what the world has taught you time and time again. A painful lesson which never wavered for Blaine, and Kurt was determined to show him differently.

Blaine looked over and shook his head, a negative, almost amazed. Why would cereal have marshmallows in it? He sat down at the table next to Kurt and picked out the brown stuff first and then hungrily ate the marshmallows last. Kurt, with sparkly eyes, chuckled at Blaine's antics because this was the first sign of him showing any sort of personality. And quite frankly, Kurt found him adorable right now. Blaine glanced over at him blushing then quickly back down at the table though ashamed.

Recoiling back into himself, Blaine quickly pulled the toe back inside his cage. Withdrawing from the world. It was better to not experience it. The piano was the only thing that would not judge him. The only thing that could not hurt him. Last week was a fluke, a break in character. No one could ever care for him or love him. The world was pain. He waited for the harsh comment soon to follow the laugh, a comment which Blaine wouldn't hear. Blaine played.

With kind words Kurt brought him back. "Blaine it's okay. I'm only laughing because you reminded me that I used to do that as a kid. Save the best for last, you know?"

The corners of Blaine's mouth lifted into a slight smile as though relieved he was allowed to do such a thing. Maybe, just maybe, he could learn to trust. He got up to put his bowl away making to grab Kurt's as well. "Nuh uh!" said Kurt. Blaine glanced down at the floor suddenly shut away at the fast and reprimanding tone of Kurt's voice. Quickly seeing this, Kurt softened his voice, "This is mine to do, remember? School days we make our own breakfast and put away our own dishes. Thanks for offering though. It was very kind of you." Kurt left to put his dish away.

Blaine stopped in his tracks, immobilized, stunned by Kurt's words. They knocked him back like an unexpected gale force wind. Kind? What? Disbelief coursed throughout his body and every muscle fought against the feeling of joy. Jolted by a simple phrase. Blaine wasn't kind, was he? He shook his head, clearing it of thought and his body of feeling. Too much.

He watched as Kurt and Burt talked about Kurt's plans for football practice, hanging on to every word. The love that the two shared for one another was completely obvious. If possible, Blaine would have soaked up the feeling though his skin and bask in its glow. The way they actually listened to what the other was saying. The way they paused to hear the other's opinion. It was nothing that Blaine had ever experienced before. How was this possible? Both participating the conversation, neither dominating or talking over the other.

Not for the first time, Blaine wondered what kind of strange people he was living with. People that didn't yell at Blaine. People that didn't shout insults at one another to use their words for kindness instead of pain. People that cared instead of hated. Gave instead of took. Blaine tried to understand, but the more he tried the more it boggled him. Instead he listened on.

"Hey, Dad, I'm going to be late after school today." Blaine readied himself for Kurt to be hit or harsh words to be lashed out. For not telling his dad earlier, for perhaps ruining his schedule. Burt's eye brows furrowed and Blaine braced himself. Squeezed the table underneath so no one could see his fear, prepared for the piano to escape. Here it comes…

"How come?" But Kurt wasn't backing away and Burt wasn't standing with intimidation looming over Kurt. In fact the atmosphere was calm. It had always been calm. The anxiety that Blaine felt before was all him. The brewing of the storm was something Blaine created within himself. It had never actually existed.

"Coach sent out an email last night telling us she wanted to go over a few more runs."

"She's crazy for taking you guys before and after school."

He listened on, amazed by their conversation. Was this how it should be? No yelling, no fighting, just… talking? Listening to what the other had to say, and them reciprocating in kind. Was this normal, for a father and son to be engaged like this? All his life Blaine had been hurt for talking either with his voice or with his hands. But Burt and Kurt weren't hurting each other. They weren't twisting words around into something neither of them said.

"Well we have that 'all important' game on Friday."

"The semifinals?" Burt asked and Kurt nodded. Burt hadn't been able to go to any of his football games since Blaine arrived because they knew it would be too much for him. "Just call me when practice lets out, alright, kid? Blaine, do you want to stay after and watch?"

In fact, Blaine really didn't want to stay and watch. It wasn't that he didn't like practice, sometimes it was nice to be certain he would be left alone for a long period of time undisturbed. But occasionally Coach's whistle would jolt his piano, and if Blaine could sit at home without interruptions he would much rather do that. Could he give Burt a no though? Would that be acceptable? Blaine gulped down, still unsure. Burt stared calmly back waiting patiently for his answer. With palms sweating and heart racing, Blaine took a leap of faith and shook his head from side to side. Flinching almost automatically, bracing himself for an impact that never came.

Burt grinned, "Alright, I'll pick you up after school then." Blaine opened his eyes to see Burt casually walking away. Blaine's opinion was taken by Burt and left intact and simple, perhaps most importantly, just as Blaine intended it to be. It wasn't maimed or turned into something ugly.

"Oh, Blaine, I was thinking if you wanted some of my old clothes, you could have them. I don't wear them anymore." Blaine hesitated. Would Kurt twist his opinions around? Taking another chance he nodded. "Come on let's pick through them." Relief.

Kurt was disappointed that they couldn't actually go out and buy Blaine clothes as they were tight on money since Blaine's tirades. Therefore, unfortunately, Blaine would have to wait before going shopping. At the very least Blaine wouldn't have to wear those ratty clothes anymore.

Kurt took out boxes upon boxes of his old clothes. "I'll just get a few out right now that I think would fit you to save time. After school you can dig through the rest if you want." Kurt picked out a shirt that would bring out the green in Blaine's eyes and a pair of form fitting jeans which looked short enough to fit him. Luckily, Blaine was practically the same height as Kurt when he stopped wearing designer clothes. He was so lost in thought about what Blaine should wear that thirty minutes had already passed without him being aware.

"Are you two almost ready? If we don't leave soon, you'll be late for practice," Burt called.

Kurt flushed and quickly handed the clothes over to Blaine who took the pairs to the bathroom. These were the nicest sets of clothes Blaine had ever been allowed to touch let alone wear. Soft fabric slid through his hands as he touched it idly. He didn't consider himself worthy. This was all too much. Too much too fast. Why were they so nice to him? This was another struggle, another hurdle Blaine needed to push through. Swatting away the buzzing questions, Blaine put them on. These were Kurt's old clothes and he wanted Blaine to have them therefore he should wear them.

When he walked out ten minutes later, Blaine took Kurt's breath away. He looked absolutely gorgeous and in Kurt's clothes too. Never in a million years would he admit it, but Kurt was proud of himself for what he chose. Of course anything would look better than the rags Blaine usually wore which hid away Blaine's physique just as Blaine hid himself away. His foster brother had definitely filled out since his stay there, finally going from skinny to healthy. His eyes looked brighter too, less sad and overwhelmed. Only remnants of dark patches under his eyes remained. Now, if only Kurt could see him give a real smile. Although, Kurt mused, if that ever happened he was sure to melt to the floor in a big pile of goo.

With a nod of approval the two left for another morning of football practice. Kurt was late but thankfully excused by Coach Beiste even if he had to deal with some taunts from his fellow football players.

At school Blaine began to watch people interacting around him. People smiled at one another and greeted each other with big grins on their faces. Why couldn't Blaine be one of those people? Have a friend to smile at, laugh with, greet when he saw them in the hallway. No, Blaine doesn't deserve that. He was worthless and friends should be reserved for people who earned the right to have them. Music would always be his only friend. It didn't judge him, it couldn't hurt him. But there was Kurt right beside him, dropping him off at his next class like always. It was routine, and Blaine did a double take when he realized Kurt waved goodbye to him with a smile. Just as those around him did to their friends.

Maybe Kurt could be his friend too? Blaine shuddered at the thought, his toe now back inside the cage. He had wandered too far today. Because having a friend was terrifying. A friend was scary. It meant letting someone in, breaking down those barriers completely. It meant stepping fully outside that cage. A friend means opening yourself up to hurt.

Adventuring outside the cage was terrifying and exhausting leaving him more confused than ever before. He wanted what other people had, but he knew he didn't deserve it. He was selfish. How could he even afford to think like that? How was it so easy for everyone else to laugh and smile? The urge to play the piano, to express his utter confusion and fear overwhelmed him. The notes needed to be let free. After class he snuck into the choir room.

At first he ghosted his hands over the keys, not daring to play them. But the urge to do so became too much. No longer was it enough to hover, his fingers wanted to play. The notes begged him. Never ceasing their craving to be free. To sing. A caged bird dreaming of the world beyond. His fingers moved on their own accord and the notes fluttered around him longing to be let go. If Blaine kept his hope locked away from freedom, maybe, at very least, his notes could be.

When Kurt realized Blaine hadn't waited for him, instead of panicking as he had always done before, Kurt automatically went to the choir room knowing now Blaine sought refuge there. Silently, standing outside the door, he watched as Blaine's fingers once again hovered over the keys. Kurt wanted him to play; wanted to hear the notes for which Blaine kept silent and repressed. He jumped as a soft noise emanated from the piano, a note was hit unexpectedly. He began to play and a smile formed on Kurt's face, proud of Blaine. He wished to go over and hug his foster brother and share his joy, but this was a moment for which Kurt needed to leave Blaine alone. The kindest thing that could be done was let him figure it out by himself. So Kurt continued to stand by the doorway to watch and listen.

Blaine played gently and hesitant at first. His fingers shaking with anticipation, excitement, and nervousness all in one. Sometimes, though, no matter how hard a person tries, sometimes you need to let go. Slowly, Blaine got lost in his music. He closed his eyes and moved with the music, letting everything out and getting lost and emerged in it. Blaine was kept afloat by his music.

Kurt's jaw dropped. Blaine was beautiful. The mellifluous music swept him away. Notes filled the room with beautiful sorrow. They colored the room dark. Shadows of black and grey crept around the room. Occasionally splashes of light surfaced from the overwhelming gloom. Like sparks from a match on a dark cold night. Not quit able to give it life as the flashes drifted dead to the ground. Kurt wanted to know this boy fully. Wanted to spark that match to where it burned to a full fire. He could see the warmth behind Blaine's cold walls, the yearning for which Blaine felt. The music filled him and Kurt felt all of Blaine's confusion and pain.

Sometimes when you can't communicate the best alternative was music.

"He is really good," said a quiet voice next to him breaking the spell Blaine held over Kurt. Mr. Schuester was leaning against the wall, watching and enjoying the music Blaine created just as Kurt was.

Kurt nodded, "That he is." He really did not want to be talking with him right now, as anything Mr. Schuester wanted to say to Kurt would not be good. Mostly, Kurt was worried that the teacher would make him think. And Kurt was happy living in his fantasy world. Even if it was fake.

"We could really use him in Glee. Brad's wife is having a baby and we'll need a replacement soon."

Kurt continued to walk away from the choir room, with his former teacher in tow, so Blaine would be able to leave the room without anyone around. "I'm sure you'll be able to find someone else. Just leave Blaine alone." There was no way Mr. Schuester was going to suck Blaine in. Kurt wouldn't allow it.

"Is he your new foster brother?" Kurt nodded allowing him to continue talking. "Then the Glee club could use him just as much as he could use us."

"No. Blaine has gone through a lot, and the last thing he needs is to add Glee to that list. He isn't one of your projects, he is a person. I repeat, leave him alone." Kurt shot Mr. Schuester with the coldest warning glare he could muster. If Blaine joined Glee it would only spell disaster for his foster brother, and Kurt could only do so much to stop it from happening. A shiver went down his spine, the slushies, the dumpster tosses, among other things. No, the very last thing Blaine needed was Glee.

"Blaine needs friends, Kurt."

"What Blaine needs in none of your business."

Mr. Schuester sighed, "The Glee club misses you. I know you miss it too. I see you playing football with Finn and Puck. You don't enjoy it the way they do. You have a spark inside you when you sing. When you play football, I see nothing."

Kurt walked away without a word, done with the conversation. He didn't want to think about what he was told.

**So uhm, I know I sent some of you an excerpt and for some that excerpt doesn't happen until next chapter… my bad.**

**Thank you so much for all of your patience everyone, I can't even express how much it means to me. I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter!**


	7. Winter Wind

**A/N: I know there was a little bit of a mix up with the last chapter because I erased the hiatus post and replaced it with a chapter. If you haven't read the chapter titled _Images Inedites_ then go do that. And if you wanted to review but couldn't just send me a PM. *hugs all the readers***

**http:/www. Youtube .com/watch?v=YJMIIxm1bGo**

Burt and Kurt had been deliberating over some time if they could take Blaine to Kurt's all important football game. The semifinals. Burt desperately wanted to go and see his kid play in real time instead of after from a recorded version. Blaine wasn't ready before, and Burt couldn't just leave him home alone. Even now after Blaine made great strides this week, the protective side of Burt wanted to make sure that his foster child had someone with him at all times to look after him. He still hadn't said a single word, but Blaine indicated his feelings with a nod or shake of the head no and that was a huge step forward. Maybe he could handle the game. Kurt and Burt butted heads over the issue and debated over and over. Ultimately, they concluded they would present the idea to Blaine and he should decide on his own what he wanted to do. "Hey, Blaine, I know we haven't gone to Kurt's football games yet so far, but would you want to go tonight?"

Blaine looked up to Burt curiously. It would be interesting to see how a game actually went. He had never been to one, had never had the chance to watch one or let himself watch one. Throughout the years the piano became his only companion, even on the rare occasion he was allowed to watch television, he wasn't ever present. Blaine nodded slightly, because if it was anything like practice going to a game would be alright. Burt beamed. "There is going to be a lot of noise tonight, Blaine, and a lot of people. You sure you still want to go?"

The teen nodded again, but apprehension filled him. This time he only agreed because he knew Burt wanted to go. They had done so much for him already. All he had ever done was ruin their house. Blaine needed to give back somehow.

"Let me know if it gets to be a little too much. Promise?" Burt looked at his foster child in earnest, making sure that he understood Burt would leave as soon as Blaine made any indication he was uncomfortable. Blaine nodded again. "Alright, kiddos, let's get this night rolling."

On the drive there, Blaine wondered how much noise a simple game could make. While there was some yelling at practice, it was all at a distance and nothing Blaine couldn't handle. Along with the physical distance, he was always mentally distant too.

Burt gave Kurt a hug before dropping him off at warm ups, "Knock em dead, kid."

Kurt beamed. "Always. I'm really glad you are here tonight, Dad," he said before trotting off to the locker rooms. Blaine promised himself that no matter what happened, he would stay for Burt and for Kurt. He wouldn't be a burden like he had been for so many other families. He wouldn't get put into another foster care because of his fears.

In the locker room getting suited up Finn greeted him, "Hey, Kurt, ready do to some serious kicking?"

"Always, they'll never know what happened," said Kurt in reply. Kurt was perhaps the biggest reason they had gotten this far. Kurt, Finn, and their new coach who got everyone into shape fairly quickly, had gotten them through the season. Despite all of that, they were going into the semifinals as the underdogs, and really had to prove something in order to win.

"It's kind of a shame they know what you are made of. You used to be our secret weapon. Now everyone knows."

"Doesn't mean they can stop me though, does it?" said Kurt with a little smirk. It was Finn who managed to get him on the football team this year after practically begging him to try out. Well that, and Coach who took him on right away when she saw his kicking skills. At first the boys were skeptical of Kurt's talent, but when he practically won the game for them with kicks that should have been impossible, Kurt gained their respect. The bullying stopped and Kurt's life was good.

"Of course not," came Coach's voice. They all hurried to huddle for the pregame strategies and warm-ups. Kurt knew what he was supposed to do, and while everyone got pumped, Kurt got bored.

Burt turned to Blaine, "Come on, let's find us some seats before it gets too packed."

Burt paid for their tickets and headed up to the stands. Only a few people were there right now, all of which were family members of those playing tonight. It was still early. Following orders from Kurt, Burt placed them in the stands next to marching band in the hopes to provide Blaine some comfort if things got a little chaotic. Apprehension filled Burt reconsidering the idea entirely, but he looked over to Blaine. He seemed to be doing okay so far.

The band started setting up their equipment, the pit crew right in front of him. Blaine was mesmerized by the xylophones as they warmed up. Comparing it to his piano, he found the two instruments were similar but completely different. The high notes of the xylophone tinkered and the low notes honked. Every note the instrument produced was short and staccato and while there were different notes, all of them produced relatively the same almost comical sound. His piano had different moods, these did not. They couldn't create the dynamic differences his piano could. Joy, sadness, fear. Xylophones were probably the most static instrument Blaine had ever encountered. However, watching the players hit the different notes with their mallets in synchrony was captivating and Blaine found he could hardly look away.

This was the main reason how the teen kept ignorant to the stands filling in around him. As he sat next to the band on the side of the stands, no one beside Burt was able to sit next to him. Blaine snapped out of his trance when the band finished their warm up. It didn't take him long to realize that there were a ton of people around him. Only a thin string kept him holding on rather than spiraling down. As the noise grew and more people gathered the string became more and more tense. His breathing labored and chest constricting. Sounds of chatter, laughter, and yelling pressed down on him straining his hold.

"You okay there?" asked Burt.

Blaine looked over at him, fear evident in his eyes. But Burt was here for Kurt, and Blaine must bottle all of his fears and hide them as long as he could. He didn't want to be a hindrance, he couldn't be a hindrance. A new fear overcame him, he couldn't lose them. They were too good to Blaine to not be able to do this one thing. Blaine nodded slightly, letting the noise surrounding him mutate into a buzz as closed his eyes. He focused on the piano and its feel under his fingertips. The piano strengthened his string. Now, the notes he produced were the only thing he could hear. As long as nothing too dramatic happened, as long as this was the most it got while he was here, his string while fragile, would keep him. The buzzing became part of his symphony.

Kurt, as always, pretended to enjoy what was happening around him, but he never got to the point that the other guys did. So soaked into the game that nothing else existed. He could see it in their eyes, intent and focused. It was like Kurt was on the edges of the ecstasy the others got to enjoy but a barrier wall kept him from being able to join in. He was part of the team and he did want them to win, of course, but Kurt just didn't see it as something special. Sometimes he wished he could take some of that joy and experience it himself. Because of the excitement radiating off of them, Kurt wished for it. His teammates never looked happier than during a game. And Kurt wanted that. But it never happened. As such, he was stuck going through motions like an actor. Smiling when he felt he should smile, cheering when everyone else cheered. But there was nothing real behind it.

Catching his dad's eye from the sidelines he waved. His dad waved back with a wide smile mouthing him luck. Kurt looked over to Blaine, his eyes in that glazed trying to cope with his surroundings. He was barely holding on. Maybe it was a bad idea for them to come, Kurt reflected. He began his stretches.

The game started off with its normal bated breath everyone waiting to see what was going to happen. As the game wore on, though, it became more and more evident they were probably going to lose. Even the crowd could see this as the cheering became subdued and moaning more evident. They were losing, and pretty badly too. By half time they were down by two field goals, and unless they picked up their game, this would be their last.

Back in the locker room for half-time, Coach was furious. She slammed her towel into the lockers in anger. "Come on slackers, what the hell was that? What is wrong with all of you! They are killing us!" She pointed her finger outside in anger. "We are better than this! Get it together! Missing your catches, running the wrong plays, not blocking!" she yelled gesturing to various players. "What the hell is wrong with all of you! Where is the team I had last week! I did not spend the whole season getting you guys in shape for this mockery! The only one scoring any points is Hummel. Because of him we can still pull through if you guys would just try!"

Finn stood up to have his say, "Do you want to want to make this our last game?"

Everyone mumbled a no.

"That's not the attitude I want. Do you guys want this to be our last game!" he yelled a louder.

Some people said no a little louder while others still grumbled.

"I _said_ do you guys want to make this our last game!"

Besides Kurt, everyone shouted no. Because of course they didn't want this to be their last game. Of course they wanted to go to the finals. And Kurt could really care less.

"Do you want to make it to the finals and win this thing!" Finn said shouting as he pushed Puck's shoulder.

Puck shouted, "YEAH!" and shoved Finn back.

Kurt just sat trying to stay out of everyone's way as he watched the madness build. This was their way of getting ready to go back into the game for half time, to 'raise their spirits'. But they all looked like a bunch of lunatics who should be locked up for the rest of their lives.

"We can do this! Right?" said Puck pushing Sam's shoulder.

"Right!" said Sam. It turned into a pushing mad fest and Kurt despised this part of the game.

The guys slapped him on the back. Kurt appreciated the sentiment, he really did, but he also wished they would stop. He gave them a tight smile each and every time, refusing to push back as was customary. Coach Bieste gave him a curious glance as Kurt sat there refusing to join in the madness, but he gave her a half-hearted shrug. Sometimes he wondered if she knew.

Blaine watched the marching and at half time thoroughly memorized. The marching band players were a kaleidoscope for the music they played. Moving in synchrony around the field, the flags created the color the players the movement. Blaine not only heard and felt what the music was about, but he saw it too. They left Blaine's jaw open. This was the most spectacular thing he had ever seen.

Burt looked over at Blaine, and the intent stare he had while watching the band member and smiled. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to bring his foster child after all.

They were back on the field, and the football players and cheerleaders were trying to rile everyone up. Get them cheering and pumped for the second half. But no one would stand. No one would cheer. Everyone just looked on expecting McKinley to loose so why even try and show a little enthusiasm. The season was practically over for their school anyway. Burt grunted but remained in his seat. Kurt watched on as their efforts went down the drain as the crowd watched with boring faces. And he smirked.

Finn patted him on the shoulder, "We'll win, they'll see."

Kurt smiled but Finn mistook his expression as sorrow when really Kurt was just as bored as everyone else, probably even more so.

They were now half way through the third quarter and the game was actually looking up. Every so often, Kurt glanced to the stands to see how his foster brother was doing. In the beginning, Blaine had that far off expression. Kurt knew he wasn't really here and that he had no idea what was going on. But he was doing far better than Kurt expected thus far. However, right now, Blaine looked on edge. Tense. His hands were clutching the bottom of the stands. The crowd was getting more active than before; Kurt didn't know how much more Blaine could take. After his next kick, he planned to call his dad to tell him to leave. He knew how hard it would be for his dad to abandon the game especially when almost everything was on Kurt's kicking ability to win it. His dad had to know he wouldn't take it personally. Blaine was suffering.

They were only three points down, and Kurt was up to kick. The crowd was hushed as he stepped up to kick. It was up to him to tie the game. He had 52 yards to kick the football and if he made it they would really have a chance to win. Most people would scoff and say impossible, and most kickers would try to get it as far as they could, not Kurt. He knew he could make a goal. Breathing in he focused on the task. A kick sent it soaring through the air and right through the goal. Every stood up and cheered. Kurt was buried in a mound of football players. Urgh, why did they feel the need to do that?

Burt waited with bated breath whispering encouragement to his son. Blaine had no idea what was going on or why everyone was so quiet all of a sudden, but he was grateful for it as the silence allowed him to hear his piano better. Suddenly every stood up, and Burt jumped to his feet.

_SNAP_. Blaine's string, the one holding steady, instantly broke. The yelling, the fist pumping, the chanting. Burt yelling. Too much. Burt had never yelled before. His face. Scary. Too much too sudden. Weighing him down and Blaine was flailing. Falling down. Grasping for something, but there was nothing. Nothing to steady him. Nothing to hold on to. Retreat. Get away. Piano. The noise drowned out his sweet piano. His pulse raced, breathing became fast and difficult. Too much. Get away.

Blaine bolted from the stands. Not sure quite where he was going. Only thing he knew was _get out_.

Burt stood clapping and cheering with the rest of the crowd, his son had scored a goal and now they were tied with the other team. It was going to be a very close game. Sitting down, he looked over to check on Blaine, but his foster son was nowhere to be seen. Where did he go? Burt quickly glanced over the stands, but his foster son wasn't amongst the crowd.

"Blaine!" he called, but of course there was no answer. Burt left pushing people to the side frantically making his way through the crowd. Blaine was gone.

Kurt sat on the sidelines waiting for his turn as receiver and glanced up to the stands to see how Blaine and his dad were faring. They weren't there. Rummaging through his bag as inconspicuously as he could, remembering that he was going to call his dad, he pulled out his phone. One ring, two rings, three rings, and the message machine. He called again. Nothing.

Of course, they could very well have gone to the bathroom. But the terrible sinking feeling in his stomach wouldn't go away. There was a lot of yelling and cheering after his kick, and Kurt feared the worst had happened. It was just too soon to bring Blaine to a football game. He knew that it would only end in disaster. His face paled at the realization, they pushed Blaine too far.

"Coach, I think something has happened and I need… I have to go. Family emergency. I have to leave the game. Please forgive me." And without a second look back, Kurt bolted from the game to find his foster brother and dad. This was so much more important than a stupid game. His dad wouldn't know where to even start to find Blaine. Kurt knew if his foster brother was anywhere, it would be the choir room. It seemed the one place where Blaine took refuse away from the chaos of life when he couldn't stand it. Kurt bee lined to it.

The door to the choir room was open and Blaine sat underneath the piano cross legged staring glazed eyed at the floor. The music carried him away to a faraway place. Away from the sights and sounds of the world that became too much for him. Quickly, Kurt sent a text to his dad telling him he found Blaine, and joined his foster brother underneath the piano. Reaching out hesitantly and slowly to make sure Blaine would be okay with it, and when no resistance came, Kurt rubbed his back in slow soothing circles.

At the feel of the touch Blaine came back to reality. Looking into Kurt's eyes he found comfort there and leaned into the warmth of another body which he knew, for perhaps the first time in his life, wouldn't hurt him. Blaine wept. Kurt was showing him kindness even after he drew him away from the game. Tears fell silently. Because Kurt was there for him. Because Kurt cared. Because he may have finally found a friend. He curled into Kurt deeper.

Kurt's heart sank and flip flopped all at once as Blaine's beautiful hazel eyes gleamed with trust. The fact Blaine allowed him to wrap him up in his arm and sought to be hugged. Even still, there was a dark shadow of fear looming just behind his eyes telling Kurt Blaine was far from being able to trust the world. Enveloping him into an all-encompassing hug, he tried to communicate to his foster brother that he was safe with him. That Kurt would never let any harm ever come to the boy. That he was special all at once. Blaine breathed in deeply sinking into the hug and rested his head on Kurt's shoulder.

Finally Burt arrived holding out his hand to help the two teens up from under the piano. Burt held out his arms offering a hug which Blaine backed away from remembering his face and yelling. Burt let him go looking down in sadness.

"It was too much for you, huh? I shoulda known that, and I'm sorry. It was very selfish of me." Burt told Blaine honestly. Burt's facial features had a calm warming feeling about them. Confusion wrinkled Blaine's features, he shook his head. Burt was the kindest person Blaine had ever known. It was Blaine's fault, not Burt's. He was the one who ran away. He was the one who caused all of this trouble. He tried to stay strong, but he couldn't. He failed. Burt should hate him right now. But he finally understood completely that Burt wasn't going to give him up. Even though Blaine kept making mistakes time and time again, maybe he found a real home.

The thought was terrifying and exhilarating.

Walking back to the car Kurt saw that they had lost the game. Only later would he discover it was because he left. Kurt was terrified about what tomorrow would hold for him. But he kept silent and walked to school the next day head held high.

The football players weren't just mad, they were furious. They surrounded Kurt almost immediately seeking their revenge. With slushies in hand, they doused him with the flavored drink. Between the shock that this was happening and the cold ice that hit his face, Kurt was quite literally frozen. Flashbacks of last year flared behind his eyes. Back to the days of when he was bullied every day. No, he couldn't let those thoughts creep in again. Banishing them, Kurt wiped off the drink and began to walk away. But, of course, they weren't done. They surrounded Kurt, pushing and forcing him to make his way to the football field. He tried to resist and looked around for help. All that met him were downcast eyes; just as before, no one would risk getting in their way.

At the field, they told him to get on his knees to do pushups. Kurt refused. They kicked him. He kept his eyes defiant, but inside he was trembling. They were angry and working themselves up in a frenzy. The mob played off one another. It was ten to one. Nothing Kurt did would be able to stop the hazing. Helpless but stubborn, Kurt refused to give in but accepted his fate nonetheless.

Blaine watched from a distance and saw everything they did to him. Every time they punched Kurt, Blaine flinched. When he was kicked, Blaine's whole body shook. Kurt was a good person he didn't deserve this kind of treatment. He knew why they were doing it; Kurt left and lost them the game and they were mad at him for it. But it was Blaine who made Kurt leave. Blaine was the one who caused them to lose. He was the one who was weak and couldn't handle himself. He was the one who deserved to get beaten up. Blaine not Kurt.

Blaine's body moved on its own accord, and without even thinking and yet knowing the consequences, he ran in the middle of the fight. Wanting them to hurt him. _He_ should be punished; _he_ should be forced to endure that pain. Standing there in the middle of the fight, everyone froze at the sudden unexpected interruption. The jocks stopped terrorizing Kurt due to their confusion. No one had ever interrupted their bullying before, and they didn't know what to do except look at each other with odd expressions. Kurt stood there staring at Blaine a mixture of curiosity and horror written over his face.

Why was no one hurting him! Blaine wanted to yell, but he stayed silent. Always silent. And waited. And sill, nothing happened.

After the moment of shock ended, Kurt pulled Blaine away leaving the jocks confused. Kurt had no idea why Blaine did what he did, but somehow knew it wasn't to save him. Kurt couldn't go back to the refuge of being a jock now. That door had slammed shut. And he sure as hell wasn't going to go back to Glee. What was he going to do now?

**A/N: thoughts? **


	8. Nocturne

**A/N: *TRIGGER WARNING* *spoiler* Talk of suicide. Place marked by * Please message me for a summary if it is going to cause issues. **

**http:/www. Youtube .com/watch?v=_SuzMSM1VGA**

As soon as Kurt got the chance he observed his face in the mirror checking for bruises. He could already feel one forming around his eyes. Sure enough, a bruise was already darkening. With shaking hands he left the bathroom panic stricken. Last year he kept makeup with him at all times to cover up any bruises he endured. But he had no makeup with him this year, hadn't since he joined football. For a moment he considered asking Brittany or Quinn for some. But he hadn't talked to them for quite some time; did they even still consider him a friend? Plus, if anyone found out he was asking around for makeup he would be done for. His already weakened façade gone. Maybe it would look like he got into a fight? But no, if the dirty looks he received walking down the hallways were any indication, the whole school blamed him for losing the game.

But it wasn't the school that he was worried about right now. It was his father. More specifically what his dad was going to do when he found out. He didn't need to be worrying about Kurt, right now. Blaine was the one they should be focusing on right now. _Blaine. _How was he going to keep him safe now?

That night Kurt went home trying his best to avoid his dad and keep his injuries a secret. But sooner or later his black eye was bound to be noticed. Maybe he could ask for money to buy a new hat or something, and instead walk to the corner store and buy makeup. He joined Blaine and his dad at the table, but before he could open his mouth, his dad started talking.

"Kurt?" his dad addressed him from across the table.

"Yes?" he mumbled into his food keeping his head down. Hoping that the tone in his voice, a deadly calm, was due to him forgetting to take out the trash that morning.

"Kurt, look at me," his dad said firmly.

Blaine's head snapped up from his food at the tone of Burt's voice. Tone commanding. Tone scary. A wrong key was stuck interrupting the music. He knew that tone of voice. Burt wasn't happy right now. Blaine retreated. And then argued with himself. Burt was good. Burt wouldn't hurt him. His face from the football game flashed through his memory. Blaine retreated.

Kurt couldn't deny his dad when he used that voice. Kurt slowly looked up revealing his black eye.

"Did those kids at school do that to you?" said Burt angrily, voice rising.

Kurt pursed his lips keeping silent on the matter.

"Answer me, Kurt," commanded his dad, voice dangerously low.

Blaine silently begged with Kurt to answer him. Afraid of what would happen if he didn't. Blaine didn't want to see Kurt hurt. Especially not at the hands of Burt. Fear stole his ability to breath and squeezed his lungs so only the shallowest of breaths filtered through.

"They were mad that I lost them the game," Kurt said looking his dad straight in the eyes .

Burt stood up immediately knocking down his chair in the process and slamming his fist on the table so hard everything on it shook. He yelled, "No one stopped it! No one in that whole damn school stopped it?"

Blaine wanted to run. But what if he was hurt for trying to escape? No. Blaine shut himself inside the cage, away from the world. Closed the iron doors. Too much. He wouldn't be here when Burt hurt Kurt. He _couldn't_ be here. The seclusion he sought already closed around him with very little effort. Blaine was an expert at escape. Inside the walls only the music could penetrate. And this is where Blaine stayed. The piano music melded into the bars, becoming the bars. Bars of music. No one could get inside.

"No one saw. They took me out to the field," said Kurt. Kurt almost added that Blaine had run in and that was why he wasn't worse off. But he stopped himself before the words could slip through. It would have only started a whole new slew of questions that neither he nor Blaine could answer.

"That is a school. You are supposed to be safe there!" his dad continued to yell.

Kurt looked away from his dad, and that's when he noticed Blaine, sitting at his chair, trembling. Kurt's heart broke at the sight. Who knew what horrors Blaine was reliving right now.

"Dad?"

But his dad ignored, blind by his fury.

"Dad!" said Kurt a little louder. His dad stopped and Kurt looked pointedly at Blaine who was shaking and obviously distressed. His eyes were wide and blank, hands clutching the table. Too terrified to move.

Burt lowered his voice, but the anger was still present. "I'm calling your coach." Immediately he went to the phone and quickly dialed the number from the fridge. "Hi, Shannon, I have a bone to pick with you, and it's about my son." Burt walked outside to continue talking to her.

"Blaine?" asked Kurt. Blaine didn't look or notice him at all.

Kurt walked over and hesitantly touched his shoulder. It was tense, the muscles trembling slightly at the strain of trying to hold on for too long, afraid to fall. At the touch, Blaine looked at Kurt, eyes still not seeing, still too far away. Kurt took his hands and guided his foster brother to his room, Blaine following along mechanically. Along the way, an idea struck Kurt and he grabbed his computer. In the room, praying this would bring Blaine back to the present, Kurt put on piano music. He played solitaire and waited out the storm riding inside Blaine. If his foster brother needed him, he would right be there. Every so often Kurt peaked up from his computer check to see how Blaine was faring.

Eventually his foster brother came slowly out of his trance. The piano music bringing him back. A beacon of light for a ship too long lost at sea, guiding him. After another round of cards, Kurt looked at Blaine, this time smiling fondly. Blaine was playing a piano with his fingers moving along to the music. The first time he had done so in his presence. Kurt glanced at the title of the piece, Moonlight Sonata by Beethoven. He took a mental note remembering it if he needed it another time.

Burt appeared in the doorway beckoning Kurt to follow him to the kitchen leaving his computer behind. "Well, at least she has a level head and sees eye to eye with me," he Burt the bitterness still present in his tone.

"What did you do?" asked Kurt eyes narrowing.

Changing the subject, Burt asked with regret ridden all over his face, "Did they do anything worse to you?"

"Just more bruises, nothing I can't handle." _Nothing I haven't handled before_.

"Okay. You tell me right away if they bother you again, Kurt. Got it?"

Kurt nodded.

"Good. How is Blaine?"

Kurt smiled, "Better. He is playing the air piano."

"I'm going to go talk to him," said Burt with a sigh.

Kurt nodded and made his way to the living room, he cringed, no he couldn't watch football anymore. He didn't know what he was going to watch. What he wanted anymore. Who he was.

"Hey Blaine?" asked Burt.

Blaine immediately stopped playing his piano, hid his hand under his legs and backed into the headboard.

"Blaine, is it okay if we have a little chat?"

Blaine's eyes were averted, but he shakily nodded his head. He couldn't deny Burt anything. But he was terrified. Burt was bigger than Blaine. Burt also had muscles.

"Can I sit next to you?" Blaine backed further away.

"I'll stay right here then. I know I probably scared you tonight with all the yelling and everything. Kurt was bullied yesterday and it made me really mad to see that my son was hurt. I love him. If anyone ever hurt you, Blaine, I would react in the exact same way. Because, you know what? You are my foster son. Both you and Kurt mean the world to me. I promise I will never ever hurt you."

Blaine was even more terrified than before. Because he was the one who hurt Kurt. It was his fault. Everything was his fault. He tried, he tried so hard to be good. To stay. To manage. But he failed. When Burt figured out everything was his fault, he'd punish Blaine. And Blaine would deserve it. But, for perhaps the first time, Blaine didn't want it. Blaine didn't want it from Burt. Anyone else he could have handled it from. But not Burt. Because Blaine began to trust him. Allowed to observe. Allowed to feel. But now, he realized how foolish he was. Piano, he begged. He pleaded for its rescue.

Burt stared at Blaine, confused and heart broken. While his words were intended to mollify Blaine, they had the opposite effect. Blaine was shaking his head vigorously from side to side, pushing himself into the headboard again. Fear written all over his face. A deer cornered by a wolf. Burt stood there at a complete loss of what to do, trying to figure out what went wrong. Accounts of Blaine's behavior with them so far reviewed in his memory. Throwing the piano against the wall, his tantrums, the times when he was most withdrawn. He tried to figure out what was going on inside his foster son's head. The realization smacked him in the face. It felt like someone was pressing weights into his chest. It made sense. And Burt paled even more at what his words must have meant to Blaine.

"Blaine, do you blame yourself for everything that has happened since the football game?"

More head shaking from side to side. His eyes were now closed, feet scrambling to get as far away from Burt as possible. Trying to resurrect those bars, that cage. But there were cracks it in, too many. And Blaine couldn't cover all of them in time. He already exposed too much. Everything was crashing down around him as he frantically tried to keep the sanctuary together.

"No, Blaine. It wasn't your fault. You weren't ready to go to a football game. I was the one who asked you to come with us." But Blaine still had that terrified expression. "It was my fault. I wish I could take everything back, but I can't." It broke Burt's heart to see Blaine so scared of him. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. Burt was supposed to be a rock for his foster children, someone they could turn to. This was supposed to be a place of safety. But Burt had made so many mistakes when it came to Blaine lately. That not only did he manage to push him away, but made Blaine terrified of him.

"Blaine, you may or may not believe it as so many people have lied to you in the past, but you are and always will be safe in this house. I know it has been rocky. Others hurt you beyond imaginable. But you are here to stay, and I won't ever _ever_ do what they did to you. I promise." He needed Blaine to believe him. But it seemed that this time he had messed up badly. Figuring the best thing to do at this point was leave, he did so. Pressing his hands against his face, Burt shuddered a long and painful sigh. _If only Elizabeth were here, she would know what to do._

As Burt walked away, Blaine ran to the edge of his door watching Burt's retreating figure more confused than ever. Burt had every opportunity to hurt him, but he didn't. Again, _nothing_ happened again. His thoughts were knotting together as the Hummels seem to make him do. Everything from what he had known previously to everything that had happened since he came here. Nothing made sense. Mad people hurt other people. Burt was mad. Burt had never hurt him. Burt didn't plan on hurting him. Had said it and then showed it. He walked away.

Burt showed over and over again that they wouldn't hurt Blaine. He stayed true to his promises every single time. Blaine wanted so desperately for someone to trust. But he remembered Burt's face and Blaine shook. No, that was Burt getting mad for Kurt, not at Kurt and not at Blaine. He buried his face into the pillow. In confusion. In fear. In determination. He wanted to get better. But getting better was far more terrifying than anything else he had gone through so far.

Finn met Kurt at his locker the next day. "Kurt, what the hell?" he asked.

"What do you want, Finn?" asked Kurt bitterly wishing him to disappear. For everyone to disappear and leave him alone.

"Why didn't you tell me what happened yesterday!"

"Why didn't you stop it?" countered Kurt.

"I didn't know! Nobody from Glee knew! It was planned all by them. I had no idea."

"How did you find out then?" asked Kurt with a raised eyebrow.

"Coach Beiste found out. We had a meeting. She was pissed. Told us that if she ever caught us bullying anyone we would be off the team next year. And that the seniors can kiss their scholarships goodbye. It was actually kind of scary.

"Look, I don't know why you left the game, but Coach said it was important. Please believe me, I-I would have _never_ let them do that to you. Puck, me, Sam, Mike… we would have defended you," Finn said earnestly with pleading eyes pointing fervently around him.

"And gotten beat up just like me and then out casted?' Kurt scoffed. "It doesn't matter anyway. The season is over. Thank you, by the way, for getting me in," sincerely added Kurt walking away_. And giving me at least a few months where I was treated normally. Like a human instead of a punching bag used for practice. _

Kurt wasn't delusional, Coach's threats while serious, would only keep the jocks at bay. Like a flock of predators circling around their prey waiting for the opportune moment to strike. But this year he had to be strong. He wouldn't let them get to him. Because this year, this year he had Blaine to look after. Blaine needed him.

Kurt's thoughts were interrupted as he was shoved against a locker. The metal meeting his shoulder in an almost forgotten horror. All he saw as the figure moved around the corner was a red letterman jacket. A warning, he wasn't off the hook. Taking a deep breath, Kurt reminded himself_, strong_. He continued to his French class with his head held high.

A few weeks went by. Kurt's status at school didn't change. No one walked with him in the hallways besides Blaine. No one looked at him without a sneer in the hallways besides Glee members, who he subsequently refused to look at. Blaine continued to involuntarily flinch when he saw Burt. But Blaine was working on it. No he wasn't Mr. Gutera and no he wasn't Mrs. Fline either. He was Burt. Unfortunately, Burt saw every single one of these flinches and his heart shattered every time, wishing he would take everything back just to have Blaine's trust in him. Before they were taking tiny steps forward, and now Burt felt like he was losing Blaine and it was all his fault.

The day before school got out for winter break, Blaine was handed a test in Spanish class. Previously unaware that there was a test today and not paying attention to lectures whatsoever he had no idea what to do. Looking wearily at the stapled papers paired with a bubble sheet, Blaine began reading the questions. The Spanish questions looked like gibberish and try and he might to recall their meanings he drew nothing but a blank. With averted eyes he hesitantly turned an empty exam to the teacher. What was his name again?

Each class was like that. Some had bubble sheets which Blaine took to pretending they were keys on a keyboard and wrote out some of his pieces. Sometimes this required him to mark two answers at once, which he wasn't sure if that was allowed or not but did anyway. Others were free answer and, having no idea what to put, left them blank.

That evening at the table Burt asked, "Are you two happy you get a little break from school?"

"It's nice to have some time to relax," said Kurt, bitterly. He was more happy about being away from his tormentors and the looks in the hallways.

The only thing Blaine missed about school was an hour of uninterrupted time he got in class to go over his piano pieces. Perfecting and smoothing the pieces out. Playing with the melodies and warping them. That no one bothered him and he bothered no one.

"How about we watch a movie tonight to celebrate?"

Kurt stood out of his chair and said, "I'll make some popcorn."

"Blaine you can come watch too, if you wish," said Burt.

Blaine shrugged and sat himself on the floor in the corner he usually resided in whenever he watched t.v.

Once the popping from the microwave was done, Kurt took a seat on the couch in his usual spot noting that his foster brother sat, once again, on the ground. "Blaine, you can join me on the couch. Really, the floor can't be that comfortable."

Blaine shyly placed himself on the other edge of the couch as far away from Kurt as he could manage. Still unsure about what he was allowed to do. The floor was where he belonged in every household he had ever been in. It was weird to be sitting with everyone else. But comforting at the same time. He kept side-eyeing Kurt to make sure nothing bad was going to happen, but of course nothing did. Nothing was going to happen to him. It was okay.

As he watched the movie he realized how nice this was. Sometimes Burt would motion to the popcorn bowl and Kurt would hand it over. Occasionally Kurt offered Blaine some too, never acknowledging it though. A few times Burt commented on the movie and Kurt put in his two cents of thought. Other times Kurt shushed his dad because it was an intense part and Kurt wanted to watch it. It was strange sitting so close to someone, even though Blaine was on the opposite sides of the couch, to just sit and watch a movie.

A few days later, Burt lightly knocked on his door, "Hey, Blaine?"

Blaine opened it to see Burt standing before him.

"I received your report card in the mail."

Blaine shrank back.

"It's okay, but we need to discuss your grades. They weren't good. You probably haven't had the chance to learn very much since you have been going from school to school, have you? But this is your last school, your last home. You are here to stay."

Kurt leaned against the door frame listening to the conversation.

"We need to get you a tutor, or something, to help you get those grades up." But Burt knew that there wasn't enough money to dedicate Blaine a tutor in all of the subjects he needed. Furthermore, Burt doubted Blaine would be able to handle someone new in his life. Requiring him to open up to another person was asking a lot. Somehow, though, they would manage. They always did. If it was necessary for Burt to be present during tutoring, he of course, would do so.

"I could do it!" piped in Kurt. "I took all of the same classes as Blaine, well that is except Spanish."

Burt beamed at Kurt, "How does that sound, Blaine?"

Blaine nodded slightly. The phone rang and Kurt ran to get it, handing it to his dad mouthing Mr. Schue. Burt looked curiously at Kurt who shook his head. Who knew what that person wanted.

"He told me that if Blaine joins Glee, he could give him free tutoring in Spanish."

Kurt's fury at the indignity of the situation flared instantly, "That teacher is far from selfish. I can't believe he would blackmail Blaine into something like that. Wait, I take that back. He would do something like that. We can't let Blaine join Glee. We _can't_!"

"And why not?" asked Burt calmly bewildered as to the reason behind his son's sudden outburst. "I only see good coming out of this, Kurt. He gets to play piano, which is one of the only thing that seems to relax him, and he can make friends. Something I doubt he ever had."

"Make him join something else, something that isn't Glee. Band or something."

"Why?"

Kurt glared at his dad and a staring match began.

But his dad wasn't giving up, "Tell me, Kurt."

Finally, Kurt gave in, "He'll be bullied for it. I don't think, given his background, Blaine will be able to tolerate the bullying."

Kurt walked away and into his room, bothered by the conversation.

Falling onto his bead, he stifled the tears that threatened to fall. He was supposed to still be in football so he could protect Blaine. If Kurt was still accepted then Blaine could do whatever he wanted and Kurt could keep him safe. But if Kurt couldn't survive through Glee, how was Blaine going to be able to?

Glee ruined him, and it would ruin Blaine too. The truth that Kurt kept buried for so long; he was bullied badly and because of that, Kurt almost killed himself.

_He had recently come out to the Glee Club. Eventually news travelled around school as such news does. The bullying, as a result, had gotten infinitely worse. He was already tortured due to his effeminate voice and being part of the Glee Club. But now that he was gay too, the jocks made it their mission to make sure Kurt was living a nightmare._

_Slushies, locker slams, dumpster tosses, swirlies. The names he was called, constantly were never ending. At first he let it roll off of him. But after a while being treated like dirt, the words started twisting his thoughts. _

_To their credit, the Glee club members tried to protect him. But it was never enough._

_He found himself standing on a cliff with a fifty foot drop. If this was how the rest of life was going to be, he didn't want to live it. He could end it right now and all the pain would go away._

_Something caught his eye. A butterfly flapped his wings revealing himself on a tree. His wings now back flat against the bark, was completely camouflaged. The butterfly kept himself from becoming prey because he blended in._

_That's what Kurt needed to do. Blend in. When he got home from school that night, he packed away his more flamboyant clothing, and slowly bought clothes which resembled more Finn than him. He was still regarded as gay, but it was more okay because it was hidden behind clothes of masculinity. He asked Finn about football and found out they were short a kicker. Kurt got on the team because, luckily enough, he was actually pretty good. The players became dependent on him. His life became a façade he hid behind, but the bullying stopped._

And now it was back in full force.

But he had Blaine to look after this year. He had to be strong for Blaine.

**A/N: My poor characters. **

**Moonlight Sonata is Blaine's overall theme song**


	9. Christmas Time is Here

_**LONG A/N: Okay #1. No exploding! #2. Every single one of you is absolutely wonderful *hugs patient readers* I want to apologize for the very long wait. With that, I would like to thank Thaliana and Miranda for helping beta this chapter. As always, please message me if you're worried or have questions. I love talking to people and I really wished I could have calmed your annon nerves. **_

**Review: It is now winter break. Kurt offered to tutor Blaine as he is failing all of his classes. In oh so convenient timing, Mr. Shue called to help Blaine in Spanish with the requirement he join Glee. We also found out last chapter Kurt almost committed suicide due to his bullying situation.**

** watch?v=2gmiSPMHrWQ**** I struggled for so long on what to use, I settled on this. This is part one of 2, both chapters will use this song. **

The day after school got out, Kurt, Blaine, and Burt drove together to pick out a Christmas tree as tradition for the Hummels. For the entire drive to the tree farm, Blaine wondered why they'd bothered to bring him along. Surely his opinion was of no consequence. Why would it matter? Besides, going out to get a tree, surrounded by shimmering lights, music, and smiling faces only made Blaine morose; smothered in a conglomerate of things he could not touch but wanted to. During most of the year he could live within his own head forgetting his worthlessness, a fact he has come to accept. Blaine Anderson was worthless. However, during the holidays everything was thrown in his face, there was no escaping;

Christmas reminded him just how negligible he really was. He didn't deserve love, he did not deserve a family, and he did not deserve to have the joy the holidays seemingly brought everyone else.

It made him think and remember. The worst part was remembering. Locked in his room from a drunk father while 'A Christmas Carol' played on the television set below. Trying to hide behind the tree to keep from being hit due to looking for his name on presents which weren't his while other children opened presents belonging to them. He saw hugs, smiles, giving, and love. But Blaine never experienced it. It was not for him to have.

But Burt and Kurt were so different from all those other families. They reminded him of the good people he used to live with. The ones that taught him sign language and piano. Where would he be without his sweet piano keeping him grounded? They reminded him of the one place he had ever considered home. The one place he never wanted to leave, but was torn away from anyway. What if the Hummels left him too?

Kurt, who was walking ahead of him, looked back and gave him a smile. A smile which held no malice and spread to his eyes, one full of warmth and caring. The only kind of smile he ever received from the Hummels. Blaine hurried to catch up. With a huge amount of effort, a full on battle raging on in his head, Blaine smiled back. A small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. One that quickly vanished and one which caused a slight blush. But it was a smile.

Kurt saw and his own smile broadened even more. While Kurt had yet to see one that was full and joyous, he was determined now more than ever to get one out of Blaine before the holidays were up. And Kurt's heart danced.

"What about this tree?" asked Burt gesturing to a huge spruce.

"Dad, I don't even think that will fit through out front door, let alone in our living room."

"We could keep it out front."

"No," Kurt responded with a laugh.

Burt chuckled and moved on.

"This one?" asked Kurt.

"Hmmm, the branches look good. Let's check the length."

But while Burt measured the tree, a tree next to it caught his attention. Slightly shorter than him; the branches were skinny and flimsy, and brown patches dotted the tree. It did not show the brilliance other trees at the farm did. Slowly he walked towards the defective tree and stared. He knew this tree wouldn't be bought. He knew this tree wouldn't get a home. It was too flawed and too broken for anyone to care.

Kurt watched Blaine head towards the tree, but didn't call him back, curious as to what his foster brother was doing. .

"Dad," Kurt said.

"Yes?"

Kurt nodded over in Blaine's direction and the tree he stared at.

But promptly rolled up his measuring tape, found a worker, and told him they wanted that tree.

With shock, Blaine watched as they loaded it onto the back of Burt's car.

It would have a home for Christmas after all.

Kurt smiled as he jumped into the truck, "It's just like 'A Charlie Brown Christmas'." On the ride back home, Kurt hummed the tune. Listening to the soft melody, Blaine gazed out the window watching cars as they passed. Would the Hummels never stop surprising him? He didn't want questions right now. He didn't want to ask the whys or how comes. Right now, he just wanted to let whatever just happened to happen. And so he let go, just for a moment.

On Monday morning, Kurt helped his dad in the shop with the plan of tutoring Blaine that evening. Saying that Kurt was incredibly nervous would be an understatement. He had never tutored anyone in his life, and had no idea how much Blaine knew already. Kurt could guess Blaine retained very little, but what exactly he managed to learn due to constant shuffling of schools? No one knew. Wanting to ask Blaine, but knowing that wasn't an option as he had yet to say a word since arriving; Kurt went into the session blind.

"Blaine, I was thinking we could start off with history and go from there."

After talking at Blaine for five minutes, Kurt asked him a question with the hope of engaging him, "So, when was the industrial revolution? Circle one." He wrote three answers on the piece of paper and gave it to Blaine. But Blaine looked at the paper like it had grown five heads with fangs and recoiled. A reaction similar to the first day Blaine arrived at their house, leaving Kurt confused. What went wrong?

As hard as he tried, Blaine could not focus on Kurt's words, too concerned with protecting himself from the onslaught of his past. Hounded by events in his past, words that stung more than the smacks he received. "You're too stupid to get anything right!" SMACK "No wonder no one wants you, you can't even answer a simple question." SMACK. Very quickly he learned to avoid any sort of homework in anyone's presence.

Blaine knew Kurt wouldn't hurt him, but the fear still lingered. Instead, Blaine tuned everything out, and listened to his piano. Because, right now, that was the only thing holding him together. Staying sitting in his seat was the best he could manage. It wasn't that Blaine didn't want to learn, it was that there was only so much he could cope with before his brain shut down. And right now, Blaine was at his max fighting with his memories.

Thereafter, Kurt no longer asked any more questions. . If only there was a way to convince him it was okay to be wrong, but that wasn't going to happen anytime soon. Unfortunately, he also gathered that Blaine wasn't listening to his lesson anyway. It felt like Kurt was trying to educate a brick wall. His foster brother just sat there, eyes glazed, probably enthralled with his music, and not focusing.

Blaine had been with them for months, and he was still so scarred by his past. Was there a way to track down those families and punch each of them in the face? Or, at least, hire someone to do it for him?

But, then something happened at the very end. Kurt handed him a math sheet with a simple equation already worked out. He told Blaine to try the problems while he went to the bathroom.

Blaine grappled with himself. He looked at the equation, and studied at how it worked. He looked around, but no one was here. He was at the Hummel's house, he was safe. No one was going to see him make a mistake. Taking a deep breath, he practically forced himself to pick up his pencil and start working on the problems in front of him. One step at a time.

When Kurt came back, a quarter of the equations were done, not only that, but were most were correct.

Kurt beamed at him and realized he approached this all wrong. Blaine didn't need someone to talk at him; he needed someone to help him figure things out on his own. To give him space. One thing for certain, Blaine was not by any means stupid.

"Great job. Most of these are correct; I'm a little impressed right now," Kurt told him with a hand on his hip.

Blaine blushed and quickly looked away. But he didn't get all of them right. He should have, but he didn't. He was too stupid. This was pointless, he was never going to learn. Why couldn't he do anything right? He just wanted to be enough for them. Clutching his seat, he willed himself to stay in the chair. To not bolt, to keep his fear at bay. This was the Hummels. This was Kurt. It would be okay. He repeated to himself over and over, hoping to be proven right.

Kurt merely circled the ones he got wrong, and told him how to do them correctly.

These were words Blaine did not hear.

From his body language, Kurt could tell Blaine tuned out, but kept talking in a calm voice anyway. Kurt also wrote down the correct way to do the problem. Grabbing the computer, he looked up similar problems, wrote them down, and asked Blaine to try again. This time, Kurt purposely went into the living room. All he wanted to do was help, and maybe he finally found a way to do it.

Blaine looked down at the piece of paper when Kurt left, saw the changes, and worked on the problems.

Every so often Kurt peaked into the kitchen. When he saw Blaine was done, he came back in.

Blaine wrote down correct answers for all of the new problems.

"Well done. I think we will end here. Same time and place tomorrow then?" he asked.

With a red face, Blaine nodded.

The evening, Blaine heard music playing from outside his room. Curiosity held him causing him to follow the sound. It led him downstairs to find Burt with a box of Christmas supplies and Kurt placing newspaper on the table. Art supplies scattered around the newspaper in a messy disarray. Burt pulled out three plain ornaments from the box.

Blaine could tell this was probably a family activity and would be impeding on their time if he stayed much longer. Not wanting to get in their way and be an unwanted burden, an excluded observer making things awkward, he headed back to his room. He could practice the piano as his fingers ached for the imaginary instrument. But before he could leave, Burt called out to him.

"Hey, I was just about to come get you. I have an ornament for you, too, if you wanted to join us."

Burt handed him a plane white ornament about the size of his hand. Shocked, Blaine took it carefully and awkwardly held it, standing in the middle of the kitchen. A bird caught between in an unexpected wind change. They wanted to include him. This must be a family tradition and they actually had an ornament for Blaine.

He watched as Kurt meticulously drew on the bulb with his tongue sticking out. Burt and Kurt chatted about possibly seeing the Christmas play while music played softly in the background. Peace floated all around him. He sat down at the table, still not quite believing what was going on. This was all he ever wanted, and now it was happening. He was terrified. He couldn't lose this family.

Kurt worked on making snowmen, and Burt was writing 'Merry Christmas' in red and green writing. Blaine didn't know what to do; didn't know what he was allowed to do.

Kurt noted that Blaine looked lost. He floundered among a sea of new experiences. Instead of asking for Blaine to participate, he merely waited to see what would happen.

Blaine caught Kurt's eye, but he found no judgment, only kindness. Shyly and hesitantly, Blaine grabbed a paintbrush and dipped it into the green paint. The CD playing Christmas music softly in the background guided the brush and dictated where the paint would go. The low notes were broad and thick on the bottom of the ornament. The long notes caused his brush to create swirls of red and green that tapered off at the end. High notes dotted the ornament. The more Blaine worked, the more confidence he gained. Letting the music take hold of the brush and drift him away, he soon forgot to be self-conscious.

When he was done, he set the paint brush down and reality came crashing down around him. Quickly, Blaine summoned his cage just in case. But he poked his head out to test the waters and see. If they wanted to break him down, he could quickly retreat. But he wanted to see their reaction. He wanted their approval. But he was too afraid to let go any more until he knew what was going to happen.

"Someone's been hiding their talent," said Kurt.

Burt looked up at the decorated ornament, and Blaine averted his eyes. He squeezed the table, but refused to retreat. "I love it, Blaine." Blaine peeked up to see Burt's beaming smile. Blushing, he smiled hesitantly back.

Kurt picked it up and turned it around. Worry gripped him, worry that he might be kidding about liking it, worried that he was going to throw it to the ground. Examining his work himself, Blaine would not be surprised if Kurt did. It wasn't anything spectacular, in fact it horrible and awful. Just like everything Blaine did. He wished Kurt would break it already. But he didn't. Kurt just looking at the bulb as a whole.

"Once this dries, we'll have to find the perfect spot for it on the tree," Burt said. They wanted it on the tree?

They then started decorating the tree. Kurt began humming quietly to the music. Blaine strained to listen to his voice. It was calming. At first, he stood back and watched as they decorated, once again afraid to do anything to mess up. But Burt handed him an ornament and asked him where would be a good place to put it. So Blaine placed it on the tree and Burt, Blaine was startled to see, nodded in approval.

From there Blaine helped decorate with very calculated placement. Kurt and Burt reminisced of memories with past foster children. Remember when Kierra… and what about… I wonder what he is up to now… Only snippets of the conversation caught by Blaine.

Not quite paying attention, Blaine lost his grip on a bulb and it crashed to the ground shattering everywhere. Blaine jumped and looked at Burt terrified. Backing away a little, Blaine put distance between them, just in case. He would be able to run away in time if he needed. He was fast..

"That bulb was so old anyway, no wonder it broke on the carpet," said Burt as he went to the closet, the opposite direction as Blaine, to get a broom and dust pan. A sigh of relief.

"Great job, kids. It looks magnificent."

And, really, the tree did not appear half bad.

"Good pick, Blaine," said Burt. Blaine blinked in confusion.

With the Christmas tree now put up and decorations scattered around the house, the smell and feel of Christmas was in the air.

The next morning Kurt gave Blaine some worksheets before heading to the shop.

"If you have any questions, I'll be in the garage helping out Dad," Kurt gave him one last smile and walked off in the direction of the garage.

Blaine took them, sat down at the table, and started working. But for whatever reason he couldn't focus. His thoughts wandered to the Hummels and how they got along together so well.

That was why he found himself in the shop of the Hummels. Under the pretense of working on his homework, Blaine was there to observe their interaction. He wanted to learn, but not necessarily learn about his school work. He knew the Hummels cared for one another, but the need to understand gripped him. How Burt never yelled. Why they were always so patient. He felt like the answer was right there, obvious and waiting, but was blurry and indistinct, hidden behind a nebulous fog.

Taking a seat in the corner of the shop, Blaine pulled his materials together. Burt gave him a wave in greeting and Blaine quickly pretended to go back to work. Every so often he glanced up to watch the father and son. They worked so well as a team. Sometimes they sat silently, sometimes they had a conversation consisting of whatever was on their minds, other times they told the other to do something and they actually did it. No arguing, no yelling, no complaining. Both had smiles on their faces the entire time. It made Blaine want to smile for the sake of smiling as well.

Together they were the G major scale, Blaine had decided. Bright and happy, a key which produced calm and joy. Rare people in Blaine's world. His mind produced a melody for the two as he continued to watch.

Burt chuckled at something Kurt said. He was the support for the pair. A strong note which provided the foundation for the relationship, the G note, the first note in the chord. Burt was the reason, the source of the happiness and peace which surrounded the Hummel household. He created the strong relationship. The one that tied everything together. He gave the atmosphere, the chord, the harmony, its substance.

Kurt, while working diligently, told a story. He followed his father's direction with no complaint. Kurt's note was a B, a higher B, the octave above Burt. High and melodious, he gave the chord its brilliance.

They flowed as a team, both knowing their jobs in the shop. The two worked together just like the notes, producing no dissonance, just a delight.

Kurt took a break to investigate Blaine work. "How are the worksheets?" he asked slightly self-conscious.

Blaine held up the ones he completed earlier that morning for Kurt. Glancing them over quickly Kurt said, "Looks pretty good to me."

Burt also came over, "How's it going, kid?"

Kurt answered for him, "He is picking up on everything rather quickly." He turned back to Blaine, "Did you have any questions?"

Blaine shook his head, wanting to tell Kurt how much he much appreciated how patient he was. That he was grateful to him for taking the time to help him. But he didn't know how.

They went back to their work and Blaine watched them. Still wondering about their relationship. He watched as Kurt pulled up the hood of the car. He reached in and with a gasp, pulled his hand back. It was bleeding.

Burt instantly stopped what he was doing to check on his son, who continued to work on the car.

"Kurt, what happened," Burt asked.

"Nothing, Dad, it was nothing," he answered.

"Let me see," he said pulling Kurt's hand from the car. The cut wasn't huge, and Kurt would have been able to continue without trouble. But Burt insisted, "Go clean up yourself and take a break."

"Dad, it's fine, I want to help," Kurt said.

"Not with a hurt finger you won't. Go take the day off, you work too hard anyway. I'm not taking no for an answer."

Kurt groaned, but did as he was told. Blaine watched this whole exchange curiously. If this were any other home, Kurt would have been forced to continue working whether he wanted to or not. But Burt told Kurt to stop, and even more Kurt didn't want to take Burt's excuse to stop, he wanted to keep working.

G and B.

**A/N: Thoughts?**


	10. Christmas Time is Here part 2

**Hey everyone. Wow, what a long wait! **

**Here's the thing, I'm going to continue writing this story, but I'm not going to put it up anymore until it is complete. I think it will be better this way. **

**Also my new computer broke on me… What is it with me and computers OMFG? Luckily, I was able to save my data after three different tries… omg the most nerve wracking thing ever. Anway…**

**Recap: It is Christmas time. Before the break, Kurt made the football team lose. Kurt is tutoring Blaine in all his subjects except Spanish. Mr. Shue offered to tutor Blaine if Blaine played piano for the Glee Club, and Kurt doesn't like the idea at all.**

It was their traditional Friday night dinner. As they sat down, the inquisition began and Kurt sighed heavily.

"You remember that punk kid that came in earlier?" asked his dad when dinner was served.

Kurt scoffed because the description certainly fit. "Dad, that was Puck, but yes, I remember," he drawled.

"He in your Glee Club?" asked Burt feigning ignorance.

With his jaw clenched Kurt answered, "He is in _the_ Glee Club, yes." It wasn't _his _Glee Club, and he really wished his dad would stop calling it that.

"How come you disappeared when he showed up?" his dad asked, staring intently at Kurt attempting an expression of nonchalance and failing miserably.

"I didn't want to talk to him," Kurt responded like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Kurt knew he was behaving like a five year old at this point. But he also felt like a five year old, with the way everyone was treating him about this whole Glee Club nonsense.

"I think he would have liked to talk to you. Told me about a Christmas party or something that they were having. You should go."

"I don't want to go," Kurt responded stabbing angrily at his chicken.

Burt shrugged, "It was just an idea, bud. Besides, you've been tutoring Blaine every day and helping me out with the shop just as much. You deserve to go out with your friends," he paused, "like you did last year."

Kurt merely rolled his eyes. "I hardly talk to them anymore. People change, Dad. Besides, Rachel probably blackmailed Puck into coming over here because she knows they can't win without my voice. Which, by the way, is out of service. Permanently."

"You used to love singing, kid, I hate to have you just let it go. Besides, if he just came over here to talk to you, he paid a big price for damaging his car."

Kurt was backed into a corner of decisions each less appealing than the next. Whichever way he chose the consequences of his actions were almost unbearable. There was absolutely no way the jocks would let him back onto the team, no matter what Coach said. As soon as he was alone with them, nothing would be held back. The safety of hiding in plain sight was gone. If he joined Glee again the bullying would, for certain, be worse than before. Because not only was he gay and 'showing it off' but now the whole football team despised him with a burning passion. But, if he didn't join Glee, no one would look at him in the hallways. He would have no one to talk to. A black sheep in a cloud of white sheep. All which followed each other, ostracizing Kurt because he was too different to be seen with.

Would it be so bad to walk alone in the hallways? He had practically been doing that this whole year. Sure, people talked to him, but all of his interactions were superficial. With the Glee Club, people would look after him. He knew it. No matter what, they always had his back. However, they couldn't be at his side around the clock. If the wolves are hungry enough for their prey, they stay on the outskirts until an opening arrives. And that was when trouble came last year. His thoughts circled back to how much worse the bullying would be now.

A never ending spiral of poor choices lay in front of him. He sighed. Soon, he would have to make a decision.

"I just thought you should know. Anyway, Kurt, we still need to buy some of the kids their Christmas presents."

Kurt's thoughtful expression turned into a beaming smile. For now, at least, he had time to worry about school later. "Oh that's right! I have some good ideas for Stevie too. Did you know he started playing soccer a few weeks ago?"

Burt chuckled, "I did; his Aunt told me. It sounds like he's really good at it too. He scored the winning goal for his team last game."

"Do you who will be joining us for Christmas?" Kurt asked because their home was always open for the kids and their families on Christmas if they wanted to be here. It was his favorite part of the holiday and usually the one time a year they got to see them. It always astonished him at how quickly they grew up.

"Unfortunately, it is just going to be one this year. Stevie told me told me he and his Aunt will be going to Phoenix to visit his grandparents. But I already made arrangements so we can drop off his present. As you know, Chloe is now living in Florida, so we'll have to call them that morning.

"So who is going to be here?" asked Kurt confusion written all over his face. That was all the kids, unless…

"EMMA IS GOING TO BE HERE!?" asked Kurt excitedly.

Burt nodded, smiling.

Kurt hadn't even talked to her for over a year. She was taken into protective custody due to neglect. But neither Burt nor Kurt blamed her mother, they were in a tough situation, and simply did not have the means to take care of her two children. But her mom was far too embarrassed to talk to the Hummels about it or talk to them in general.

"She called and said that her daughter hadn't stopped asking about us. Apparently, Emma threatened to never speak ever again if she didn't get to see us for Christmas. Her mom didn't believe her, because, well, you know Emma. I guess after two days of silence, her mom gave in. She put up a defensive, but I think I finally got through. I was going to wait until she got here and let it be a surprise, but I really couldn't keep it from you. She'll be dropping Emma off and picking her up later. Maybe someday we can convince her we don't bite."

Kurt chucked, "So, you talked to Emma and her mom. How is she doing?"

"Well, she is now a third grader and has taken up Karate."

Kurt scoffed, "She would."

"And she wouldn't stop talking. I swear that little girl can talk a mile a minute."

"It is nice to see that some things don't change," Kurt said with a fond roll of his eyes.

Blaine followed the conversation intently. The Hummels kept track of their foster children even after they found homes? The pressure weighing down on Blaine lifted ever so slightly.

The next day, Blaine found himself in the shop standing awkwardly by the Hummels, unsure if he should participate or not. His hands constantly wrung together and eyes made awkward glances at them. He could learn. He could do this. They wanted him to do this, right? That was why they asked him to be here. Right?

Kurt and Burt flowed together like a song well practiced by musicians. They knew the song perfectly and weaved notes together with ease. Blaine was going to be that player to break the harmony. The blasting wrong note which ruins a song, unexpected and unwanted. He couldn't do this. They were better off without him.

"Hey, Blaine!" greeted Burt as Blaine started backing away to escape. "Just in time, we're about to get busy and we could definitely use some help."

Blaine glanced quickly between Kurt and Burt. Should he walk away or stay? What if he messed up? No matter how hard Blaine tried, he always ended up being the wrong note.

Just as he was about to back away, Kurt smiled and beckoned Blaine to follow him.

"Here, I'll tell you what tools are what and you can just hand them to me. You'll be great, I promise."

So Blaine followed and listened to Kurt. He was trying to learn, but Blaine got a little lost in Kurt's kind expression. No one had ever had the patience like Kurt did to teach him things. Kurt never raised a hand, or even his voice. He just tried different things to see what worked with him and what didn't. Someday, Blaine would be able to tell Kurt and Burt how much they meant to him. Someday. Not today.

"Do you get it?"

Blaine looked at Kurt and shook his head side to side. Kurt chuckled and tried again. This time making up ridiculous names for the objects that got the smile back on Blaine's face.

"I think you've got it, and now it is show time," Kurt said as a car arrived. "And Blaine," Kurt began. Blaine looked up. "It is okay if you make a mistake. Okay?"

And, inevitably, he did make mistakes. He handed Kurt the wrong tool or fumbled a little and dropped it on the ground. The very first time he was corrected by Kurt, Blaine flinched horribly as his body expected some sort of abuse. But soon, Blaine discovered Kurt was right, making a mistake really _was_ okay. They just corrected him with a smile as if it was no big deal and carried on with what they were doing. His body soon stopped flinching and he started handing the different tools with more confidence. Maybe Blaine didn't quite know the song perfectly yet. But maybe being a blaring wrong note was not so bad when people were there to show you the correct one. And maybe he was going to still a bit off pitch for a while. An instrument not quite warmed up.

But everything would be okay.

"Alright, you two," announced Burt, "We'll take a bit of a break, and then off to do some shopping."

Blaine stayed close to Kurt the entire time in the mall while Burt's arms started getting heavier and heavier with bags.

"I'm going to go get Emma her present, Kurt, why don't you head over to the book store for Mark. We'll meet back here. Blaine, you can go with Kurt."

Kurt nodded. The mall was decorated for Christmas, which was in just a few more days, and packed with shoppers. Lights glisten above him and a decorated Christmas tree stood in the center. Carolers sung Christmas songs, adding to the ambience. Kurt paused for a moment, those carolers sounded suspiciously like the Glee Club. Sure enough, as they passed by, Rachel's voice was clear as a bell. Finn harmonizing along with her while the rest of the club swayed in the background like usual. Kurt rolled his eyes and groaned in frustration. Obviously, his dad knew they were going to be here and that he would have to pass them to get to the store. Puck hadn't _just_ talk about a Christmas party with his dad yesterday.

Hurrying as fast as he could, Kurt reached his destination. But he stopped when he noticed a familiar presence not with him. Looking around, he saw Blaine stand just behind the crowd watching the Glee Club with the expression he wore often when playing the piano. The only time he had ever seen him completely at peace.

Kurt knew that music offered an escape for Blaine. Whenever he played the piano, all the tension in him disappeared and in its wake left a boy immersed in the notes. Blaine brought the piano to life. It was his gift. How could Kurt be so selfish as to try and take the opportunity to play away from Blaine? Maybe the Glee Club had the power to help Blaine in ways that Kurt couldn't. But what about the inevitable bullying? Would Blaine be able to handle it? He was already so fragile, and Kurt didn't want him to regress to the way he had been when Blaine first arrived. A scared animal ready to flee when someone so much as moved the wrong way.

What was the right decision? Was there a right decision? Come mid-January, Kurt was going to be forced to choose many difficult paths.

Kurt gently placed a hand on Blaine's shoulder to bring him back and gestured for his foster brother to follow. He did so hesitantly. Kurt made eye contact with Mercedes as he drew quietly away. One thing was for certain, the Glee members had the ability to help Blaine, but at what consequence?

It was Christmas morning and Blaine felt increasingly awkward picking at his pancakes. Only once in his life had he ever been welcome in a Christmas celebration, every other time he was shunned and those days clouded and tainted his one good time. Kurt and Burt, finished with their breakfast, sat watching How the Grinch Stole Christmas waiting for the guests to arrive while Blaine simply stood in the kitchen watching from afar. Instead of joining them, as Blaine was uncomfortable doing, he started doing the dishes.

"Blaine, you don't have to do the dishes," called Burt. "We'll get to them tomorrow. Come over here and relax while we wait for Emma." But Blaine couldn't relax. He was fidgety and on edge. Christmas held too many bad memories and held so many bad meanings for Blaine. Desperately, he shook his head to Burt, hoping he could see how much Blaine needed to keep busy right now. Thankfully, he seemed to understand as Burt gave a quick nod as if giving permission to continue if he so needed. And so Blaine did.

The doorbell rang and Burt answered it. "Hi, Emma," greeted Burt, opening his arms to give the girl a hug while a car in the background drove away.

"Hi, Mr. Hummel!" Emma exclaimed running into Burt almost knocking him over in the process of the overenthusiastic hug. A ball of brown hair and bright blue eyes wrapped around him. Burt Picked her up and kissed the top of her head. She turned at looked over at Kurt. "Kurt!" she said and Burt put her down as she tackled Kurt.

"Umph! Why, hello, Emma. It's so good to see you again," he exclaimed as he swung her around.

"Who is this?" she asked looking at Blaine who was now sweeping the clean floor.

"This is Blaine. He is my foster brother. _Be nice to him_, Emma," Kurt warned.

"I'm always nice!" she retorted back with her hands on her hips.

Blaine looked from Kurt to Emma and promptly left the room going to dust the furniture. Emma followed him. Blaine left the room shortly after to fiddle with the tree, making sure everything was in place. Emma followed him. After watching him curiously for a few moments she started chatting.

"Why are you cleaning the house, Blaine? It's Christmas!"

After a moment of silence where Blaine just looked at her, she nodded in understanding, "You don't talk much do you? That's okay. I met a kid at the house who didn't like to talk either. He was weird though, picked his nose all the time. You are perfect, Blaine, and I'll probably do all the talking for both of us anyways.

"I started learning Karate about a month ago," she continued as Blaine once again moved to another room. "Mom says I should act like a proper girl because girls like me shouldn't be interested in things like Karate, but she still pays for my lessons. I secretly think she feels bad for what she did; making me go into foster care and everything for my sister so she pays for them anyway. Hey want to see a move I learned last week?" she said to Blaine following him around while he attempted both to clean the house and shake off Emma.

"Emma, why don't you leave Blaine alone and let him breathe. Come here and watch this movie with me," said Kurt.

"No," she said defiantly, "he is trying to clean the house. No one freaking cleans on Christmas day. He doesn't need breathing room; he needs to watch my Karate moves." She turned back to Blaine. "Follow me! We are going to go outside because if I do it inside I might break something. I broke the lamp in my room once. Mom wasn't too happy, but she replaced it without yelling too much."

Blaine, not sure what to do, looked to Kurt who shrugged. But Emma didn't give him much of a choice and so he followed her. Being with Emma was like being bombarded by a hurricane. She was vivacious, loud, and full of energy. But she seemed to know how to push Blaine just enough to get him out of his shell. It was a little overwhelming for sure, but she always backed off right when he needed her to.

She told Blaine to sit on the porch chair while she practiced.

"We do a lot of breathing exercises in Karate. We also do a lot of balance practice. I can stay on my foot the longest in my class. I'll show you!"

Emma continued to talk as she balanced.

"Our teacher tells us that we must learn these things before the exciting stuff because it is the core of it all. If we become good at this stuff, we'll be good at other stuff too. So I practice it every day. I want to earn a black belt someday."

Blaine continued to watch as Emma chatted away. Kurt soon joined them outside.

"Emma, you are doing great!" he said

"Thanks, Kurt! Even though mom doesn't like that I do Karate, she does say that it helps with my focus a bit."

Burt opened the porch door and gave Kurt a telephone, "Its Chloe."

"Hi, Chloe! Oh, good, I'm so glad you liked your present.."

Blaine sat, not quite listening to Emma or Kurt exchanging stories with Chloe on the phone. But, somehow, Blaine felt more comfortable now than he had ever been on Christmas day. Whether that was because of Emma's companionship, or because of Kurt's proud smile and enthusiastic clapping whenever Emma managed another balance trick, or Burt shouting encouragement when Emma did something wrong. Right here, in this moment on Christmas day, Blaine was content. And Blaine realized watching the Hummels with Emma that Burt and Kurt really, truly, wanted their foster children to succeed. They _wanted_ to see them happy. They weren't faking anything. They weren't pretending. This wasn't just some illusion being pulled over Blaine's eyes. They were absolutely and completely genuine.

Not only did they want their foster kids happy; they did all they could to stay present in their lives even after being adopted. No matter how many times you were told something, it was completely different to see it with your own eyes.

"Whew! I'm tired. Can we open presents now?" asked Emma tumbling to the ground.

"Getting impatient, I see. Yes, let's open presents," said Burt. "I'm surprised she lasted this long," Burt mumbled to Kurt.

Emma squealed in excitement, "I sit next to Blaine!"

They each opened their presents in turn. Emma hopping off the couch to give Burt a squeezing hug after opening a display case for future belts.

"Thank you so much!"

"I'm expecting that thing to be full by the time you reach high school."

"High school! It will be full before fourth grade!"

Burt and Kurt laughed.

"And, Blaine, this one is for you," said Burt bringing over the largest box in the room to sit on Blaine's lap.

Blaine stared at the box flabbergasted as everyone stared at Blaine expectantly. A present? For him? Why? He stared at the box covered in tiny Santas. This was his first present since he was very little. He always thought he was not good enough for presents. That he was someone who didn't deserve presents. Other people got gifts. Other people, never Blaine. But here was one sitting on his lap waiting to be opened. He brushed it disbelievingly with his fingers.

"Well, go on, open it Blaine! If you don't do it I will!" Emma's voice broke his reverie.

"Emma!" admonished Burt.

"What?" she asked innocently with batted eyelashes.

Slowly, Blaine opened the box not sure what to expect. The Hummels had been so nice to him and have given him so much already. They were truly different than everyone else. They actually wanted to give Blaine this present; he realized when he looked up to see the smiles of Kurt and Burt waiting for him. Finally, he opened it completely.

It was a piano. They had given him a keyboard piano. He ran his hand over the box in silent surprise. The last one he threw at the wall. He didn't think that they would ever trust him again. But here was another one, just waiting to be played. An actual piano he could play, not an invisible one. But one he could produce real music on, with sound that could fill the air instead of just his mind.

Setting it down gently on the floor, Blaine went over to Burt and tried to figure out a way to show his gratitude. Burt smiled at Blaine a little teary eyed as Blaine stood awkwardly in front of him staring at the floor. Eventually, Blaine gathered his courage, brought his hands to his chin and down out towards Burt.

Burt looked confused.

Blaine did it again. And again. And again. Each time growing more desperate, wanting his intention to come across.

But the more he did the gesture, the more confused Burt got.

Frustration and hurt wound itself around Blaine constricting him. He knew they wouldn't understand; why did he even try? With a broken heart, and tears trickling down his cheek, Blaine left his keyboard and ran upstairs.

"You guys are both idiots," exclaimed Emma. "He was saying thank you!"

"Thank you?" asked Kurt.

"Yeah, thank you in sign language. Jeez!"

"We didn't know Blaine knew sign language," said Kurt, looking surprised at his dad.

"Well obviously he does! So if you excuse me, I'm going to do some damage control." With an angry sigh, she grabbed Blaine's keyboard and dragged it after Blaine.

A knocking came at his door, and Blaine wished it away. But the door opened anyways, Blaine was ready to be yelled at, but instead it was Emma.

"That was your first time signing in a while, huh?" she asked sitting beside him on his bed, he just watched her. "I could tell because Mr. Hummel didn't know what you were doing. I wonder why they didn't know you could sign. That's something the social worker should have told them. You must not have a very good social worker. That's okay though; mine wasn't all that great either. But I would've thought Mr. Hummel would've taught you sign because you don't talk. And that's something he would learn himself and teach you because he's like that. Even though they are wonderful, Mr. Hummel and Kurt can sure be idiots sometimes, I tell you, idiots. They mean the best though; you'll never find nicer people than them.

"I don't know why you are here with them, but no one's story is ever the best. I got taken away because mom couldn't afford us. But she managed to get my sister back, she's deaf and so mom fought for her more than me." She looked downcast and her legs were no longer swinging off the bed.

Kurt peeped in to make sure he didn't have to remove Emma from Blaine's room.

Emma immediately noticed him and said, "Oh good! Kurt, can we set up Blaine's piano?" With a smile, Kurt nodded and opened the box.

"In the beginning," she said continuing her story, "I was placed in a home with a bunch of children, but then I was sent here."

Kurt intercepted, looking up at Blaine, to add in, "She was a spit fire, but we love her to death." This prompted Emma to give Kurt a hug which in turn earned her a poke in the side. She giggled.

"Can I plug it in, Kurt? Please?"

"No need for the puppy dog eyes, Emster. Go ahead."

Taking the cord she began again, "Eventually my mom married my stepdad and wasno longer in financial trouble. She was able to take me back, that is at least when proved to the law she could take care of me. I didn't hear from the Hummels again until a week ago. "

"You know, Emma, we never stopped trying to contact you," said Kurt.

"I know! I saw the caller ID. She thinks I don't know about that. Eventually though, I got her to let me come here. I can be very convincing when I set my mind to it. I think now that she let me come, I'll call you guys every night!"

Kurt chucked, "I look forward to it."

She smiled then looked to the keyboard and back at Blaine. "Well, play me something!" she said excitedly.

Blaine just stared at the keyboard.

"Come on, Blaine. You must know how to play or else they wouldn't have gotten it for you. Right?" she said looking at Kurt.

"I think we should let Blaine play when he is ready to play."

"Blaine, please?" Instead of listening to Kurt, she gently cupped Blaine's hands in her own and placed them on the keyboard in front of him. The keyboard clunked in response. Caught a reverie in response to the sound of the keyboard, he slowly began to play. _Silent Night_.

Emma clapped her hands and sang along. Hearing the piano, Burt soon entered the room and started singing immediately. Kurt glanced around. His body straining to sing and lungs gasping for notes. Drowning in the music, the only way to keep going was to let out the bundled energy inside him. It started as a whisper. A soft melodic hesitant voice joined the group.

Resigned and loosing himself in song, his voice grew louder. Emma stopped singing to listen, and soon so did Burt. All that filled the air was the tune from Blaine's fingers and the soft yet strong voice of Kurt bringing in Christmas cheer.

At the end of the song Emma burst forth to give Kurt a gigantic hug making him stumble at the unexpected launch of arms around him.

"I missed yoursinging, Kurt. Sometimes it was the only thing that got me to sleep. Can you sing another, please?" her huge shiny blue eyes begged him.

So Kurt sang and Blaine played. The magic of Christmas had brought their gifts back to life once again.


End file.
